


Wayward

by geoffox



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Repression, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, M/M, Romance, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Stalker, Supernatural Elements, Trans Male Character, Trans!Izaya, a bit of setup, character on the aromantic spectrum, chat room creeps, izaya crushing, oh look another trans, poor babies fighting, someone's in love with izaya, talks of love, woohoo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-05-29 23:33:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 21,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6398737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geoffox/pseuds/geoffox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Her gut feeling, deep inside, tells her that she’s abandoning her home planet for a wayward star.'</p><p>Orihara Izaya has a shadow. Someone who watches and waits for him. He just doesn't know it yet.</p><p> </p><p>(had to change summary again as plot got mainly finalized!!!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the way he walks

**Author's Note:**

> I was in the throes of darkness and i wrote this. Now i have to finish it.

 

There is a certain way Izaya carries himself. It reminds Shizuo of a predator. The man is short. Shorter than Shizuo in any case. But the way he walks, with his best foot forward and all looks of caution drifting in the wind behind him, makes him seem taller. Tall enough in fact, that if he leapt off a building he might just

_(laugh and say--”oh shizu-chan, did i scare you?”)_

land safely and keep on walking.

Take a few steps backwards, before the first time Shizuo ever met Izaya, the notion of Izaya, and everything he knows.

Orihara Izaya was not born Orihara Izaya.

Orihara Kiyoko has hated her name ever since she found out it meant

_(a pure child, which she is not)_

everything that she isn’t.

Kiyoko lives a quiet life up until the point she realizes she can think for herself. It starts surprisingly early, even for a bright child like her. One day she looks in the mirror and feels a breeze of discomfort brush against her spine.

It starts like that.

 

She tries to explain it to her parents, the way she feels. She’s told in all honesty, with a pat on the head and a kiss on the cheek, that it will pass and they all feel that discomfort at some point or another. She admires them, for their resilience, even as a gut feeling says she didn’t explain well enough for them to understand.

 

Her family is well known. And so is Kiyoko, but she doesn’t feel well known to herself. She looks in the mirror and sees someone she can’t relate to, can’t recognize. She looks at other people, and the way they walk, and she notices

_(women walk with their hips, men, with their shoulders)_

that people are interesting.

She starts to sway her shoulders as she walks.

By the time she is eleven, Kiyoko is a mess. Her sisters were born a year earlier, and she’s not entirely sure how she feels about that, so she sets that aside for another day. She avoids mirrors and is fascinated with her family. They act so normal about everything. Is that _normal?_ Kiyoko thinks that maybe her discomfort isn’t something that everyone feels. She brushes that off though, like she has many times before this. Another day.

 

“Did you hear?” Kiyoko perks up by the sound of gossip two desks up. She listens, interested. Junior high schoolers are awful people, she’s figured out. Mean spirited, hateful people they are.

“Eiji wants to be a girl,” The student continues. Kiyoko thinks her name is Mai. “Apparently some of his friends went to surprise him at his house and found him playing with dolls.”

Careless. Kiyoko would never be surprised like that.

“That’s so _weird,”_ another student shakes her head. “That’s not… normal.”

“That’s what _I_ said!” Mai nods, excited now. “I mean, gross, right?”

Kiyoko tilts her head. She feels alien. She feels like a black cat watching from a wall while some kid gets bullied. She feels--

“Totally,” Kiyoko agrees, sidling up. She doesn’t hang out with these girls. Not anyone really. She spends her free time in the library, watching, and reading. “What do you even call… _that?”_

The students are surprised at first, but let her in with shared interests of dissing the freak.

Her gut feeling, deep inside, tells her that she’s abandoning her home planet for a wayward star.

 

The summer between junior high school and regular high school is the hardest. Izaya, because that’s her--his name now goes through a lot of change that was meant for “another day.”

That day stretches out to the whole summer, where she- _he_ spends it convincing his parents that it isn’t just a phase, and that he wants a fresh start and all that bullshit. In truth, she- _he_ is not sure what gender he is, just that he’d prefer a male body and this is the easiest way to get what he wants. He neglects to tell his parents that he still likes the feel of a skirt, or the waist pinching of a dress, or the wobble of heels.

They start with a haircut, and Izaya’s mother

_(“where did you get that dreadful name anyway”)_

urges her daughter- _son_ to take it slow. Chop off a little first. Izaya takes the kitchen scissors to his hair in an action that he will later regard as maybe a little… just a little over the top. His mother, crying, takes him to the salon to fix her- _his_ self-made disaster.

Next is the problem of his chest. Izaya doesn’t want to get rid of it, because there are parts of him that still like the curves and angles of a woman, but to complete this ruse--who are you fooling anyway?--he must hide them. Bandaging them would be foolish and dangerous. Specially made binders are the only way to go it seems. It’s a simple task to measure his chest and

_(what if he doesn't look good in it. what if he doesn't look like a convincing male. what if)_

order the correctly sized binder online. Express shipping with a nearby distributor means that he gets it the next day. He hastily pulls it on and it’s _so tight._ He doesn’t look into the mirror until he’s got a shirt on too--he looks in the mirror and--

He tilts his head.

Maybe this can work.

He spends the summer wearing his binder and fashioning a new identity for himself. His sisters, still young, have no problem calling her- _him_ Izaya. His parents, though reluctant, do so as well.

They have a meeting before school starts at Raira. Izaya comfortably sits all flat chested and smiling--whether it’s sincere or not is saved for another day--where the adults discuss Izaya’s situation. The school agrees to make a note of it, since they don’t really want to cause any fuss for any party present. Izaya gets what he wants in the end.

Besides that, he’s also picked up a new hobby over the summer.

Knives.

He meets Kishitani Shinra during his first year. During his first week. During his first day. Shinra happens to be sitting behind him, and they go row by row, introducing themselves. Izaya stands up, wearing a winning smile. He introduces himself, fists clenching ever so slightly when he hear the whispers

_(“isn’t that--kiyoko--why is she--”)_

grow.

Kishitani Shinra asks her- _him_ about it, and he keeps his story straight. He’s trying to legally change his gender, long story short. He leaves it at that. Shinra seems fascinated however.

“That’s so cool, I never thought I’d meet someone like that.”

“Yes well,” Izaya shrugs ruefully. “Here I am.”

“What is it that makes you feel like you wanna be a boy?” Shinra wonders aloud.

Izaya freezes for the briefest second

_(another day another day another day)_

because neither Kiyoko nor Izaya had really tried to dissect the feelings that holds them together. Even over the summer, just acknowledging that they existed and that he could do something about it and-- _how_ \--was enough. His mind races because it’s not that he _wants_ to be a boy. It’s just he’d rather be in a boy’s body. To him these are totally separate things, if intertwined. But it’s just easier to say that he’s male. It’s the easy way out, he knows, and Izaya has learned to love challenges, but--

But what? What is there to it. He’s pretending that he wants to be a boy. Save those thoughts for another day.

“I was just born that way, Shinra,” he shrugs again. “It all felt wrong.”

“I wonder if it’s got something to do with your brain!” Shinra rambles, and Izaya picks at the switchblade in his pocket. “I wonder what would happen if we opened up your skull and--”

“No thanks,” Izaya laughs, a haughty sound that reminds Shinra of a hyena. “I’m not into that whole, take-me-apart-thing,” he swallows. “Listen Shinra,” he swings an arm around the boy’s shoulders, keeping the knife pocket tucked against Shinra’s side. Even if he never uses it, he can still feel better. “Can you not talk about my gender too much? I’m a guy, kay?”

“Uh--sure!” Shinra smiles. “I’ll keep it under wraps.”

Izaya smiles. Perfect.


	2. the way he runs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is an in between chapter for the main update tomorrow! :D Expect it appearing in the afternoon. Like after 12 but before 4 CST.

It’s the next week and the whispers have died down. Around Izaya at least. He learns from Shinra that he passes very well. He’d set himself up with a piece of apparel, a black cropped jacket, that cuts up his body’s natural curves just like the knife in his back pocket. He wears it no matter the circumstances. Add this to the binder flattening his chest and the “boy” haircut and you’ve got a winning combination.

It’s Friday, and Shinra is taking him to meet

_(“you like people right? this guy is real interesting, i think you’ll get along”)_

someone.

The man is a brute. He watches with calculating eyes as this— _monster_ —manages to destroy a soccer field, toss people aside like they’re feathers and generally wreak havoc. Izaya stifles a laugh, as

_(“shizuo heiwajima. he’s a character,” shinra says with a laugh.)_

he wrecks one final soccer net, sending it high into the air. Izaya starts to clap, because people are amazing, aren’t they? But what do you call _this?_ He smiles, another hyena grin.

“Meet Orihara Izaya from our high school,” Shinra waves, “He’s a good guy. Well—to be honest, he really isn’t good at all.”

Izaya fees a hum of satisfaction at the correct pronouns. He sighs, closing his eyes. He wonders what tipped Shinra off. Maybe it was intuition. Strange.

“That isn’t nice Shinra,” he says lightly.

“No no,” Shinra laughs and holds up his hands. “I meant that in a good way.”

Izaya feels the word “ _how?_ ” burning on the tip of her — _his goddammit_ —tongue, but he tucks it away for another day.

“You piss me off.” The man—Shizuo—growls, and it _is_ a growl. It reverberates against the walls and the inside of Izaya’s ears. Izaya briefly wonders if he heard about the “tranny” and is just being an asshole, or if this is how he really is. The need to instigate arises.

“Oh yeah?” he sneers. “Too bad, I was thinking you and I could have some _real fun_ together.”

Shizuo’s face flashes with bewilderment for just a second before he jerks his head away. “Shut up.” Orihara Izaya’s eyes are laughing at him.

“Now why you gotta be like that,” Izaya’s hand slips to his back pocket, fingering all things sharp and pointy. He can feel the tension that runs through Shizuo. It electrifies him.

The only warning is the slight twitch in Shizuo’s face, before he darts towards the table where Izaya is sitting. Izaya kicks off from the table, propelling himself past the raging beast. The table snaps in half and Izaya automatically grabs at the knife. Self defense. She did her fair share of sports in junior high, knows how to move fast, knows how to handle a blade—

 _He_ — _goddammit_ — _it’s he!_

Izaya’s a little upset now, because _why is this so hard for himself?_ He twists behind Shizuo and waits for him to whirl around before he strikes him diagonally, creating a bloody stripe. The beast bares his teeth in anger, and Izaya points his knife at him, blade flashing in the sun.

“See? Isn’t this a blast?”

There’s a standoff for barely a second before Shizuo attacks and Izaya bolts.

There’s the feeling

_(a rush of heat, and the burning of his lungs)_

of excitement as he runs. He knows he can’t keep it up, not with a binder sucking his breath away. Already he’s got one hand to his side, in a gesture Shizuo probably thinks is _normal_ considering what they’ve been doing. He ducks down another street and spots an oncoming truck. He’d cross his fingers but he doesn’t believe in luck.

“Are you okay?” the driver freaks out. Izaya holds back laughter and sidles up to him, eyeing Shizuo laying in the middle of the road.

“It’s alright, don’t worry,” Izaya glances at Shizuo again. “He’s quite feral.”

“A-Are you sure we shouldn’t take him to the hospital?” The bus driver looks like he can barely keep it together.

“No no,” Izaya waves a hand, pulling out his wallet. “He’ll be fine,” he hands the man some bills. “That’ll be all.”

Then he skips away, hand clutching his side.

Thankfully, Shizuo doesn’t give chase or really move much at all. Izaya leaves him behind.

That night Izaya dreams of running away. Kiyoko chases after him. He would have escaped if the binder hadn’t constricted his breathing to the point where he could no longer see straight.

Izaya sees Shizuo the next day, merely in passing on the streets of Ikebukuro, but it’s enough to reignite the emotion now associated with him. A feeling of fire that Izaya cannot identify and pushes away.

Monday rolls around again and now there’s a vicious cycle but Izaya bleeds because it’s _that_ time of the month. This is the part of being physically female that he hates. He’s not fond of blood anyway, prefers to never get his hands _truly_ dirty although he’s not afraid of it, but this is different. He gets more irritable and the stomach cramps cause him to toss and turn at night.

“You feeling alright?” Shinra asks, poking him in the back with a pencil as they wait for class to start. “Izaya? You seem a little off.”

When Izaya doesn’t turn around Shinra keeps poking him and the jagged intrusion on Izaya’s personal space starts to grate on his already frayed nerves. He swallows down his irritation and turns around in his chair.

“What.”

“I said,” Shinra repeats. “Are you feeling alright? Cause you seem a little… more...”

Izaya runs a hand through his hair. “There’s a time of maturity among females, Shinra, that’s marked with blood letting. Does that ring a bell? I can tell you how the process works.”

The teen blanches. “Uh, no thanks—I—I get it,” he frowns. “Are you going to get injections for that later?”

“You mean testosterone?” Izaya glances at the door as the teacher walks in. “Yeah. I _do_ want to be a man after all.”

“Ha,” Shinra chuckles though there was no joke evident. “Cool.”

Izaya turns back to the front. He’s thinking about what he himself said just moments before. _Does he?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it. Let me know if you found any mistakes, I'd love to fix em.


	3. three steps back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo! Here's the main update!

Three weeks in finds Shizuo and Izaya the bitterest of

_ ( — what do you call friends that like to hurt?) _

rivals. 

Izaya’s been having dreams. Dreams of maybe the subtlest hands on his hips and an arm around the curve of his waist. He’s blaming it on teenage hormones when he wakes up those nights sweaty and  _ scared.  _ Afraid not of the touches, but of the feeling he gets that burns through his chest.

He usually spends his lunches either with Shinra, in the library, or _with_ Shinra  _ in  _ the library. He can’t tell whether he actually likes Shinra, or merely tolerates him. As far as he knows he generally likes Shinra, but then, he generally likes everyone to a degree.

That’s a problem isn’t it? He likes everyone but the only one he can stand to hate is Shizuo—Shizu- _ chan _ , Because the more he gets to know that disgusting animal, the more the terrible feeling grows. That fire will consume him. He can rule out anger or love, because honestly, while anger is at least relatable to him, he’s not even sure what love feels like. He  _ likes  _ people, his parents, (generally) his sisters, but he’s not sure that it’s love he feels. It’s not even liking people more than others. It’s just… liking. Besides, it’d be silly and irrational to assume love over a three week affair. He doesn’t even want to love that monster anyway.

He’s sitting on the roof of the academy, kicking his legs into the breeze, enjoying the feel of the wind and admiring the kids below him going about their business.

The door leading out to the roof snaps open. Odd, he’d been sure to wrap the chain around the doorknob. Must be someone strong who—

“ _ Izaya!”  _

Izaya gets up from the concrete and turns around, a smile creeping over his face. He desperately wants this feeling to go away. This feeling that he could jump and be caught.

“Shizu-chan!” he waves. Shizuo is standing in the middle of the roof, staring at him. Shinra runs out then, hunched over and gasping for breath. He must have been chasing the beast. 

“Shizu-o,” he kinda wheezes. “D-Don’t.”

“You’re a  _ chick!”  _ Shizuo shouts across to Izaya and for the briefest moment alarm flashes across Izaya’s face before he masks it. Shizuo does not sound disgusted. He just sounds angry. Really angry.

Izaya sighs. “Really Shizu-chan? So blunt,” he pouts. “What about my feelings?” he rubs the edge of his cropped jacket. “I can’t believe it took you three weeks and a day to even figure that out. Oh, wait!” Izaya raises a finger as if he’d just alighted on something brilliant. “If Shinra- _ chan  _ hadn’t  _ told  _ you then you never would have figured it out with that thick skull of—”

“So is it  _ true?”   _ Shinra-chan has enough honor to look guilty behind Shizuo.

Izaya spreads out his hands on either side of him. “What do  _ you  _ think?” 

Shizuo looks Izaya up and down, still breathing hard. Izaya can tell that he doesn’t know  _ what  _ to think. He’s trying so hard one could see the cogs turning in his brain and the smoke pouring out his ears.

“Prove it!” Shizuo’s fists are clenched.

“Prove what? What do you want me to do, Shizu-chan? Take off my clothes?”

There's a beat of silence.

“Pull up your shirt!” The beast finally snarls. “Pull it up, flea.”

Izaya laughs. “What are you  _ serious? _ No way! If you wanted me that bad you could have just written me a love letter proclaiming your affections! The words taste dusty in his mouth, like he’s never used the words “Affections,” and “Love Letter” before. He inches in a wide angle around Shizuo towards 

_ (escape. escape escape escape.) _

the door.

“Shut up you freak,” and the words carry a bite now. Shizuo isn’t playing around. He closes the door, rips off the doorknob and chucks it at the shorter boy. He dodges it nimbly, but his eyes narrow.

“I just— _ want  _ to— _ see!”  _

“No thanks,” Izaya shakes his head. “I’ll pass. You’d probably just rip it anyway and I like this shirt. It’s one of my favorites.”

“It’s just a black shirt,” Shinra says feebly in the background but the two ignore him.

“ _ Just. _ Take. It _ off.” _ Shizuo growls.

“Take it off?” Izaya reaches for his knife as Shizuo starts towards him. “Ne Shizu-chan, I thought you told me to ‘pull it up.’ Make up your mind will you?”

Shizuo takes a few more steps forward but Izaya dances away, knife out and very sharp. Seeing the teen make a beeline for the door, Shizuo hurriedly steps in front of it. He’s closer than Izaya who started at the edge of the rooftop. Izaya stops and backs up. He’s feeling cornered. Shizuo is slowly stalking towards him, using a rare moment of finesse. Maybe his brain actually  _ does  _ work sometimes. Either way Izaya is feeling more and more trapped, even on this open air roof. He holds up his knife and feigns ease, because that part of him will always remain.

“Stay  _ away,  _ Shizu-chan.” Izaya grumbles, as if only annoyed. But Shizuo keeps inching forward, eyes wary. Izaya starts to back up even more and

_ ( i miscalculated) _

Shizuo catches his arm before he falls off the edge of the building. His eyes are wide with an emotion that Izaya has trouble recognizing. Fear maybe? Then his gaze hardens like before and he yanks Izaya away from the edge. Izaya’s knife is gone now, fallen to the grass far below just like it’s owner might have. 

Shizuo grips the smaller teen by the collar, thinks better of it, locks an iron grip around Izaya’s forearm and drags him back towards the door. Izaya kicks and scratches all the way, but he's still shaken and nothing seems to make a dent on the beast until he's slammed into the wall next to the door. Head knocking viciously against concrete in a flash of color.

“Stand by the door,” Shizuo commands Shinra, like one of the cheap lunch money bullies that works the middle school crowd. Except this time Izaya is not just a black cat watching from the wall. 

“Shizuo—” Shinra starts to speak.

“Shinra,” Shizuo’s voice is deadly.

Shinra stands by the door.

Izaya swallows as Shizuo turns all his attention to him now. He’s not afraid. He's  _ not.  _

“Take off your shirt.”

“Fuck you,” Izaya spits, all humor gone. He still can't tell if Shizuo is transphobic or just curious but either way it annoys him.

The monster grabs at Izaya’s jacket, pulling on it harshly. 

“Hang on!” Izaya snaps. “If you want to see me naked so badly let me take off my jacket!” He watches Shizuo warily as his arm is released from that killer grip. Slowly he takes off his treasured black jacket, almost feeling lonely without it (but that's silly because Orihara Izaya is never lonely) and with a flash of his arm, flings it into Shizuo’s face. He shoves Shinra roughly, who shouts as he tumbles and falls, and pries at the handleless door with his fingers. The beast grabs her- _ his  _ arm once more and whips him back against the wall. Shinra looks up at them both in fear, watching as Izaya, teeth bared, punches Shizuo in the face with his spare fist.

Heiwajima’s head snaps to the left. Izaya’s hand throbs. It’s like punching a slightly squishy brick wall.

The taller boy looks back at Izaya, eyes narrowing.

“Please guys—stop—” Shinra pleads, still on the ground. 

Shizuo doesn't even look at him before he rips a good portion of the bottom of Izaya’s shirt off. Without a jacket covering him up the angles of his waist are more evident, and his stomach is exposed. Shizuo growls in frustration.

“Stop it!” Izaya hisses. “You'll  _ regret _ this Heiwajima.” 

Shizuo’s brow furrows and he says nothing. He reaches under the torn shirt to touch… He looks confused and promptly rips the rest of the shirt off, revealing the black fabric that cuts off at Izaya’s midriff.

He looks  _ very _ confused.

“What is it  _ Shizu-chan? _ Can't recognize what you see?” Izaya taunts. There might be a hint of bitterness in his words but he cannot really tell.

“Its…” Shizuo trails off. He doesn't really get what he's looking at. Is it an undershirt for men? But then… the curve of Orihara’s waist is very feminine. But… he flattens a hand over the tight fabric and Izaya groans in exasperation. 

“Shizu—”

“Dammit I still can't tell,” Shizuo interrupts, talking more to himself than anyone else. He wants to pry underneath the strange clothing, to see if the rumors and what Shinra told him are both true and Orihara Izaya is actually a chick, but the shirt is too tight. He can barely work a finger underneath it before he pulls back as the flea tries to bite his hand.

“Well what did you hear?” Izaya tries to shake away from Shizuo, twisting his arm back and forth.

“I heard…” Shizuo’s eyes drift lower.

“No,” Izaya says, deathly quiet.

“Just take off your pants.”

“ _ No,”  _ Izaya raises his voice. “Maybe if I shout you can understand me properly. You already ripped my shirt apart you uncultured protozoan!” His voice sounds shrill.

Shizuo’s face crosses with a little regret. He probably could have handled that a little better. But fuck it, this is his enemy—who might be a chick.

“Is this  _ really  _ such a problem for you?” Izaya rolls his eyes, continuing to work his arm out of Shizuo’s grip.

“I just want to know,” he says gruffly, and with that, he reaches for the edge of Izaya’s pants.

“Shizuo!” At this point Shinra tries to grab the man’s arm, the one currently perched with a finger through Izaya’s belt loop. “This isn’t right!” At the same time, Izaya’s other arm slips down to grab at Shizuo’s arm as well. 

He shakes them off. “I’m already halfway  _ aren’t I?”  _ His eyes house a dangerous glint. “I might as well go all the way.”

Izaya feels the cold breeze against him as Shizuo roughly pulls down his pants. Her. Her, right? After all, she still has the physical body of a female. Thankfully she’s wearing boxers, but it’s evident from the  _ lack  _ of business in the front that she is no man. Not really anyway. Kiyoko feels that burning sensation, the one present in her whenever she looks at Shizuo—the  _ monster _ —flare up in a wave of warmth that floods her cheeks and makes her feel sick as both  _ boys  _ look down at her. She doesn’t like being looked at like this. 

It’s  _ wrong.  _

She turns her head to look away from the gawking Shizuo. Shinra seems frozen in place as well. Kiyoko wonders what is it that he sees when he looks at her. Surely not a man. Perhaps Celty? The mysterious woman he keeps talking about? Kiyoko wants to break the silence. She wants to shout, to scream. She wants to rail at Shinra for telling Shizuo like he undoubtedly did. She wants to slap Shizuo, but her hand still hurts and she knows it won’t do any good. She never— _ wanted  _ this body!

“Are you  _ done  _ yet?” Kiyoko’s voice is scathing.

As if snapping out a trance, Shizuo looks up from between her legs. Shinra blushes and glances away, a weird smile on his face. Definitely thinking of his love.

She’s  _ not  _ bitter.

“Do you  _ mind?”  _ This is probably the coldest and warmest Kiyoko’s ever been simultaneously. She hoists her jeans up with one hand, the other still secured by Shizuo and then wraps her arm around her waist, not liking the breeze against her stomach. She pulls at her trapped arm. 

“I  _ said,  _ do you  _ mind  _ you dumb  _ oaf.”  _

Shizuo lets go of her arm numbly. He’s still processing the fact that all this time he’s been fighting a girl. The back of his neck feels sweaty. He takes a few steps backwards.

“Uh Izaya?” Shinra speaks up. “Do you want my blazer?” He pulls at the hem of his school uniform jacket.

She wants to say no. She wants to say she’s brave enough to walk through the school and do the rest of her classes in just a manbra and a pair of jeans and her shoes. She wants to, but she knows she isn’t brave enough.

“It’s Kiyoko, actually,” she mutters, carefully picking her words one by one. “And yes Shinra, I would.” 

When she gets home, her parents worry and wonder. They ask if she’s alright. Kiyoko says nothing. She still has Shinra’s blazer with her, because she had to walk home in  _ something,  _ and her cropped jacket wouldn’t work and

_ (she’s so tired. tired for once, of her beloved people. she dreams that night in red and gold and anger and fear.) _

she’ll return it tomorrow, or—another day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it. There might be another in between chapter before the next big update but we'll see. Still setting things up here... :3
> 
> If you want to beta for this story, I have an open beta (google doc) where you (along with the several others already there) can read and comment and question and chat with me to your leisure. I don't bite, and neither do my headmates. ;) If you want, just let me know and I'll share it with you once I have your email.


	4. one step forward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't know why I kept putting my notes in the summary... Hmm. Either way. The next few chapters, like two, are going to be a tad shorter than usual. consider this another in between chapter. After this we make the time skip and launch the underhanging plot! updates are planned for every other day, just saying. 
> 
> happy reading!

Kiyoko doesn’t show up at school for a couple days, feigning sick while she gets herself together. Her parents don’t question it even as they pack their bags for another business trip. They are worried about the health of their precious girl. For a good portion of the first morning, while her sisters are in preschool or kindergarten or whatever the hell school they’re in, Kiyoko lays in bed and stares at the ceiling. She doesn’t want to think about what happened yesterday. She doesn’t want to. She doesn’t want. She doesn’t. She.

Everytime she thinks of what happened yesterday, she feels a rush of warmth and fear--fear of that feeling, because she doesn’t know what it means. Kiyoko presses one hand against her face, cheeks warm, before she rolls out of bed.

The next hour is spent trying on various clothes and accessories. She doesn’t touch her black jacket, but she finds an array of dresses and skirts in the back of her closet that still fit her and tries them on with a varying combination of shirts and sweatshirts. For some outfits, Kiyoko wears her binder, but for others she digs out an old bra.

She doesn’t know. She finally sits down in the floor in front of her bed, wearing a black skirt and a gray hoodie with her binder underneath. She makes a list, first in her head, then with paper and pencil from her school bag right next to her.

_ Orihara Izaya,  _ she lists in one column.  _ Orihara Kiyoko,  _ in the other. She doesn’t know what to write after that.

Day two is spent watching children’s cartoons with the notepad on her lap. She doesn’t know what to do. Shinra calls her once, but she hits  _ decline  _ on her cellphone and lets it fall between the couch cushions. Nobody’s home.

An hour later, meaning it’s just after twelve, there’s a knock on the Orihara front door.

Kiyoko doesn’t have the energy to go to the door, so she lets them knock for a while before finally caving in, annoyed at the sound. She gets up, wearing just a shirt and jeans and of course her slippers.

There’s a woman at the door, wearing a black jumpsuit and a motorcycle helmet that obscures her face. Yup, probably going to get robbed. 

“Can I help you?” Kiyoko asks.

The stranger holds up a phone, the words [Are you Orihara Izaya?] showing on the screen.

Kiyoko blinks. She thinks back to the crack of her head against the wall and the harsh sound of tearing fabric.

“I don’t know,” she responds blankly, quirking an eyebrow at the strange way of communicating.

There’s a moment where the stranger types. Then, [We haven’t met, but Shinra sent me to check on you. I’m Celty.]

“Oh,” Kiyoko glances away. So this is  _ Celty. _ Her eyes burned with heat and she rubbed them furiously, angry at her weakness.

[Can I come in?]

Kiyoko thinks whether or not to trust this strange woman. She figures that there’s no risk. Even if Celty was evil, the only one getting hurt would be Kiyoko.

“Sure.”

[Shinra told me what happened. With Shizuo.]

Kiyoko tilts her head. “Whatever do you mean?” She asks, gaze flat. They’re sitting at the kitchen table across from each other.

Celty paused. [I don’t understand. Shinra told me…]

“Oh  _ that,”  _ Kiyoko proclaims loudly. “Yes well I tried to blot that from my memory. What about it?”

[Are you okay? That was totally inappropriate and rude, I’m really sorry that happened to you.]

“Is he sorry?” Kiyoko wonders aloud.

Celty holds her phone close for a moment, not typing. Finally, [Who?] even the written words sound careful.

“Shizu-chan,” Kiyoko clarifies. “Do you know if he’s sorry, from Shinra.”

[I don’t, sorry.]

“It’s alright,” she sighs.

[Is it?]

Kiyoko pauses for a long while. “I don't know,” she says finally.

[I know this may sound silly considering the circumstances, but is there anything bothering you? You seem upset.] 

“I just—” Kiyoko looks down at her hands. This is one of her lowest points. Ever. “I don't know what I am…” This is true. She doesn't know what she is. She wants a male body but she doesn't necessarily want to be  _ male.  _ So why does she even want the body? 

Celty looks at Kiyoko for a while, or at least, Kiyoko  _ thinks  _ she's looking at her. She can't tell with the helmet. 

Finally she raises up her phone. [Who do you want to be? I mean, you shouldn't be something you don't want to be.]

Kiyoko thinks back to pretty dresses and ribbons, then she thinks of knives and boyish haircuts. A sacrifice must be made, decisions too, but maybe she can win on both ends. She thinks—that maybe she wants—

“I'll go by Orihara,” he smiles, with a trademark hyena grin. “Orihara Izaya.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo! Izaya is back baby, BACK. Anyway, gonna have to change the summary AGAIN because it doesn't exactly fit with the new mostly finalized plot, so I'll see about doing that once I post this. :)
> 
> thanks for your time!


	5. ready your rifles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates are planned for every other day. Just saying. This is a shorter one, but there are some longer ones ahead. :)

They’re all in their twenties now, the old high school crew, and Izaya’s made a name for himself. He’s almost… feared. Not in the way Heiwajima is feared, with his red rage, but in the way that a child fears their shadow.

Izaya checks his phone idly.

_8:43_

He’s not opposed to staying in Ikebukuro this late, especially if he’s meeting a client. Plus, he gets a meal on the side. He’s in a private room in Russia Sushi, a tray of otoro in front of him. He’s late though, the client, by three minutes, and that’s never a good sign.

He sneaks a piece of otoro in the meantime. It’s his favorite after all.

There’s a knock on the door. “Orihara?” the man’s voice, because it sounds like a man, is muffled.

“Just slide it,” Izaya responds, mouth full. How embarrassing. Oh well, you can’t win them all.

The door slides open, revealing a man in a… carnival mask? The only reason Izaya recognizes the Venetian mask is the fact that his parents had once brought one back from their vacation. It covers his eyes, nose, and cheeks, arching down elegantly. The mask is black and silver, swirling in different patterns and paired along with his hooded sweatshirt covering his hair except for a few stray bangs, he cuts a rather imposing figure.

There's silence for a few moments.

”You are more—handsome—in person, Orihara-chan,” the masked man says, and Izaya is immediately put off because first he was complimented but also— _chan?_

Izaya shakes the discomfort away. This is a public place, so no one would _dare_ do anything shifty. ”You flatter me,” he purrs. “But let’s get down to business.”

“Ah yes,” the man smiles. His mouth and chin is pretty much the only thing Izaya can see. “I need you to do something for me.”

Izaya resists sniping back “ _Obviously,_ ” because that would be rude, and he doesn’t want to lose a client. “I’m listening,” he says instead.

The man still hasn’t sat down. He remains in front of the door, muscular frame filling the space.

“I need you,” the man says slowly, as if rehearsing lines, “to find someone for me. I’ve lost her, and I love her, and I need--help.”

“I’m not the police, Mister…” Izaya pauses.

“Ueshima.”

Izaya sighs, it’s a sigh as if chastising a young child’s idiocy. “Mr. Ueshima, I’m an informant, not a policeman.”

“I--need information,” he stutters. “On her whereabouts. You don’t understand, I love her. Maybe you’d understand if I told you--the n-name…”

The informant raises an eyebrow. “Will I? Do tell.” This talk of love. It’s so petty.

Behind his mask, the man’s eyes gleam with something that reminds Izaya of what love might be. He’s smiling ever so slightly.

“Her name,” Ueshima reveals, low under his breath. “Is Kiyoko.”

Izaya’s eyes narrow. “What’s the full name?” He grabs for the knife in his pocket.

Ueshima’s smile widens. “I’ve been waiting for so long…” He looks crazy, even without full view of his face.

Izaya stands up, meal forgotten. He tilts his head. “I don’t know who you’re talking about,” he tries to figure this guy out, but his entire body is obscured with his outfit and his mask. His hair is dark, that much is clear from what little the info broker can see.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” Ueshima snarls suddenly. “I know who you _really_ are, Orihara _Kiyoko._ ”

Izaya doesn’t really know what to do. He’s been so careful, with his identity, but this stranger seems to know his birth name, and is in… love? He pulls out his knife as the man steps closer. “Stay back.” He’s not afraid. He’s _not._

“But Kiyoko,” the man smiles, it’s warm and soft. “I love you.”

This makes him uncomfortable in so many ways. Uncomfortable enough to call out for Simon. The Russian man barges in, asking ‘what is up’ and ‘what is going on’ and ‘you didn’t finish your sushi, was it bad?’

Ueshima backs away through the open door. “Till we meet again, Kiyoko-chan,” he exits the room.

Izaya starts after him, but Simon stops him with a hand to his chest. “Are you alright?” He asks.

“Good question,” Izaya mutters, staring past Simon to see Ueshima leaving the restaurant. His face feels hot, legs weak--H-He needs to sit down.

How did Ueshima know his birth name?


	6. because the fox hunt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not too happy with how this chapter turned out.

Lots of questions needed to be answered after that botched meeting, but to keep things orderly, Izaya decides to approach them one at a time.

Literally. He decides to talk to anyone who might know his birth name.

First he starts with the annoyances.

Mairu and Kururi are

_(sisters of a sister)_

brats, that much is true. They may have blabbed to someone about Izaya’s birth name. In his heart he doesn’t really think so because while annoying, Mairu and Kururi are much too acclimated to his current name and body, having grown up with Izaya looking like that. It wouldn’t hurt to ask.

He finds them outside a manga cafe the next day, talking to Erika in the streets of Ikebukuro.

“Izaya,” Kururi stands behind her sister. “Why are you here?” There’s the faint air of curiosity in her voice.

“Your big brother needs to have a chat with his darling sisters,” Izaya laughs. “How about we step inside for a moment?” He nods to Erika. All business.

Erika waves. “I gotta go meet Dota-chin anyway, see you!” She walks off down the street with her best foot forward.

“Ne, Iza, why’d you need to talk to us?” Mairu asks once they’re situated inside.

“Did you tell anyone about—Kiyoko?” He asks, eyes narrow.

“Why would we do that, _darling_ brother?” Mairu asks innocently.

“I’m not playing around,” Izaya snaps, “Just tell me.”

“Iza, you’re awfully sour today,” Mairu laughs. “I didn’t tell anyone about Kiyoko, but I don’t know about Kururi.”

“I didn’t either,” her twin adds.

Izaya’s been watching people long enough to usually tell when they’re lying. His sisters don’t look like they’re lying. He gets up from the couch in the small room. “Alright,” He laughs lightheartedly. “Be seeing you then,” he leaves.

Shinra and Celty are next though they do not receive him as kindly as his sisters. He asks, and a strange expression crosses Shinra’s face.

“Why? Did something happen?”

“Oh, no _no,_ ” Izaya laughs. “I’m just… getting the info. It’s what I do after all, being an info broker.”

“Well I certainly haven’t,” Shinra says. “And I doubt that Celty would have told anyone, she’s so trustworthy,” he smiles in Celty’s direction.

The smile drops off Izaya’s face. So much love everywhere. Everywhere but here. He’s figured out a while ago, as in a couple years and change, that love really wasn’t for him. He doesn’t know what it feels like. It sucks, because there are nights when Izaya still dreams of hands in his and gentle kisses to his forehead. He wakes up those nights with his chest on fire and fear, _fear,_ coursing through his body.

“You guys are idiots.” He grumbles, getting to his feet. He already talked to Namie this morning and after a bit of haggling she’d finally revealed that she hadn’t been the one either. This left Izaya, as he leaves Shinra and Celty’s apartment, with one final main option.

 

“Shizu-chan?” Izaya Orihara stood outside the classroom, hands in his pockets, smug smile on his face, watching as the red faced teen tried to talk.

“Hey—F-Flea,” Shizuo’s fists clenched. “I’m—glad—y-you’re back.”

“No thanks to you, right?” Izaya rolled his eyes. “If you hadn’t acted so brutish and stupid like you normally do then it would have been fine and we could just go back to hating each other, ne?”

Shizuo spewed out a garble of words that sounded a lot like “Fjzzck.”

Izaya raised an eyebrow. “Are you getting dumber? Or is it just me?”

“Look—I just wanted to say.” Shizuo looked incredibly flustered. “I'm sorry you felt bad after what—what happened.”

Instantly, Izaya was annoyed. “Excuse me, _what_ are you sorry for you _disgusting_ jerk?”

“I'm sorry—it must be hard to be like—that.”

Izaya raised an eyebrow. He was absolutely fuming. “Like. _What.”_

Shizuo’s own eyebrow twitched.

“I'm saying _sorry,_ you stupid freak,” he growled.

“Oh _are_ you?” Izaya teased, still angry. “I couldn't tell with your _insults_.”

“Just let me apologize to you!”

“That's not an apology!” Izaya spat. “You’re just insulting and acting sorry for me!”

“Well at least I'm _trying,”_

 

“Heh, Shizu-chan,” Izaya chuckles as he heads down the street looking for the beast. “That was a terrible apology, right? I bet you were embarrassed.” He stops and laughs. “You really are bad at being human.”

He can hear him now, the sound of Shizuo and Tom and… a girl? Russian. _That_ Russian. He forgoes talking to them and starts the walk home, because he doesn’t want _everyone_ in the entire universe to know about Kiyoko.

Izaya is almost to his apartment when he decides to give Heiwajima a call. The dial tone sounds for a few seconds before,

“Hello?” Shizuo’s voice is gruff, wary.

“Hey _Shizu-o,_ ” Izaya switches words half way. “I was wondering if you could answer a question.” He hits the call elevator button, finally almost home.

“Flea? What the hell do you want. Where are you so I can beat your ass in?” Shizuo rambles back, sounding upset.

“ _Well,_ I was _wondering_ if you’d told anyone about Kiyoko,” Izaya hears a sharp intake of breath at that.

“Why do you care? You go rooting around in people’s lives anyway.”

“Seeing as it was my _name_ at one point, I feel like you should just tell me Shizu-o,” Izaya steps in the elevator. “I’d—appreciate it.”

Shizuo is silent. He’s silent for the entire elevator ride up to Izaya’s floor. Finally just before the doors open, he gives in.

“I haven’t.” He grumbles.

“Well that’s _fantastic,”_ Izaya says cheerfully, even as he scowls. “You are just as _useless_ as I remember. I really hate you, know that?” He walks down the hall and unlocks the door to his apartment, pushing it open.

Something brushes against his shoe. Izaya looks down and spies

_(hurried words, hurried hearts)_

an envelope, pastel pink and pretty.

“Bye,” he says abruptly, and ends the call, closing the door behind him as he does so. He bends down to pick up the envelope.

_Orihara_ it says on the front, and Izaya (he’s not hesitant, he’s _not)_ rips it open with a fingernail.

He unfolds the letter waiting for him inside.

_My dearest,_

  _I_ _t’s so good to finally be able to reach out to you. I’ve waited so long._ Izaya scowls at that. _I want you to know that you are beautiful, and nothing you ever do will change my love for you. However, I feel like you are trying too hard to be… this… I cannot even put it into words. I wish you’d come back to me, love. I wish you’d find your old self again, instead of this mockery you are now. Please come back to me, I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with my darling Kiyoko-chan. Hopefully we can meet again soon, perhaps do something romantic like go on a dinner date. Please. I love,_

_U <3 _

There’s a small picture glued at the bottom, showing a young Izaya, long hair pulled back with a red ribbon, dressed in _her_ junior high uniform. It looks like a yearbook picture.

Namie is not here, or she would relish watching Izaya having a silent panic attack, locked in his own dreadful body, shaking to pieces. Alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come! See you on another day~! ;D


	7. within the system

Izaya doesn’t know what to do. For the first time in a while, he is at a complete loss. He could move apartments, that’s always an option, but that would require time and energy he’s not entirely willing to expend. Besides, Heiwajima knows where his apartment is, and nothing really bad has come of that either.

He goes upstairs to his room and sits on his bed, rereading the letter, examining the photos.

It’s gotta be someone who has known him a long time, however the name Ueshima does not ring a bell. Eventually, knowing he’s going to have a busy day tomorrow, he changes into a pair of sleeping shorts and a loose shirt, taking off his binder underneath. It’s complicated, because although he’s fully accustomed to presenting as “male,” he doesn’t want to get rid of the bits and pieces that make him more female. He’s fine simply hiding them away instead. 

He tries to sleep and fails miserably. It must be around seven thirty in the evening. That's what he gets for attempting to go to bed that early.

Izaya wanders downstairs, feeling rather vulnerable dressed like this. She- _ He damn you! _ —sits at his computer and boots up the chat room.

**Kanra has joined the chat.**

**Kanra: what up guys~! \\(^.^)/**

**Setton: What’s up.**

**Tarō Tanaka: Hey kanra!**

**Kanra: i know it’s been a while, what are we talking about?**

**Setton: We were talking about Shizuo.**

**Kanra: ???**

**Tarō Tanaka: Yeah, apparently he and that one girl that works at russia sushi are going out. or at least, that’s what i heard.**

**Kanra: no wayyyyyy! that’s gotta be a rumor or something. no way does that guy even know how to treat a girl gently, let alone properly. (⌒ω⌒)**

**Saika has joined the chat.**

**Setton: It’s true! I saw them outside of Russia Sushi, they’re totally dating.**

**Kanra: ewwwww 。゜゜(´Ｏ｀)°゜ that’s grossssss**

**Saika: Hello**

**Setton: Hello Saika! :)**

**Kanra: heyo, don’t mind me, still reeling in shock :0**

**Saika: Wait a moment let me read the chat logs**

**Tarō Tanaka: okay!**

**Val has joined the chat.**

**Setton: Who’s that?**

**Tarō Tanaka: I don’t know.**

**Val: Helloo~ everyone. a friend sent me an invite and now i’m in, and i’m prepared to wow the ladies with my technique~ ;D**

**Kanra: Go get em tiger. (^w^)**

**Saika: Pleased to make your acquaintance.**

**Val: Likewise. :)**

Izaya leans back, stress easing away. Chatting with people is fun, and relieving, but this news of Shizuo dating Varona has him confused for reasons dating back to high school. He decides to put it aside for now. Another day. He’ll decide how he feels about it tomorrow or something. For now, back to chatting.

**Val: Kanra i gotta say, you’re lookin mighty fine! /(*¯ ³¯*)/**

**Kanra: ehh? where’s this coming from??? (≧◡≦)**

**Val: <3**

**Setton: Do you guys even know each other?**

**Kanra: no??? val who invited you??**

**Val: Kanra i like your shirt! <3**

**Kanra: ???**

**Saika: Have to go guys. Later.**

**Tarō Tanaka: What is going on?**

**Val: Glad to see you’re accepting yourself as you really are. <3**

**Saika has left the chat.**

**Setton: Wait but—are you two in the same room or something?**

Izaya glances up from his computer and listens. He can’t hear anything. Good. No no, he’s being stupid right now. He’d know if someone was in his house right now. Val must just be a creepy pervert or something. But… he's got his suspicions and he needs to dig around a little.

**Kanra: val, why’d you mention my shirt?**

**Val: i don’t know, i just love it! <3 it’s so cute with the smiling heart!**

**Kanra: why thank you.**

**Tarō Tanaka: Val, how do you know that??**

**Setton: Kanra?**

**Val: Plus your boobs are cute too~ <3**

Izaya’s eyes widened. What. What the hell is going on. He glances down at his chest for a moment, feeling something he hasn’t exactly felt in a while.

Horror. Izaya slaps his fingers over the front facing camera on his computer and maneuvers the mouse with his other hand.

**Val: Aw : < got shy?**

**Val has been banned from the chat.**

**Tarō Tanaka: kanra???**

**Kanra has left the chat.**

**Tarō Tanaka: I don’t understand, what’s going on???**

**Setton: I’m not sure. But it’s not good**.


	8. without support

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> early update! yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> I am very tired. ._.

Orihara Izaya does not scare easily. He’s seen the supernatural, the unheard of. He’s even met the _unbelievable_. So it’s almost fitting that something he _is_ afraid of, is totally believable in this day and age. It’s something that occurs, just like a thunderstorm or a robbery. 

Izaya is terrified. It is for a reason he cannot place. It has something to do with the fact that this  _ stalker,  _ hacked into his private computer’s camera and is trying to force feelings of love onto someone that doesn’t exist. Something about the idea of love terrifies Izaya as well. It just  _ doesn’t work for him! _

Needless to say, he hardly sleeps that night, instead he does research on Ueshima and the his middle school class. Unfortunately, schools prove to be rather stingy by withholding their students’ information. No matter. Izaya will have to find some other way to get his info.

He checks the IP address for Val, pulling up a cat cafe in Ikebukuro and—that’s a dead end too dammit.

Ueshima, is careful. Realistically he must have been gathering information on Izaya and Kiyoko for a long time. Interesting. There are quite a few questions left unanswered, but Izaya decides to wait. No doubt Ueshima or Val will talk to him again soon.

So instead, Izaya goes out to Ikebukuro with a skip in his step. He leaves his worries to the wind. Another day.

He spies the beast and Varona outside Russia Sushi, talking like a pair of well mannered, polite individuals. He feels the familiar warmth that he’s gotten used to when seeing Shizu-chan. This time it’s worse. He gets closer, partially because he’s curious and partially because he really wants to ruin Shizuo’s happiness. Screw him, dating someone else while Izaya is being stalked. What a monster.

Shizuo stiffens as Izaya approaches him from behind. He sniffs once, then turns around, eyebrow twitching.

“You again?” He sounds annoyed. “What do you want, louse. You’d better hurry and leave before I rip you apart.” It doesn’t sound like his heart is in it today though. He looks Izaya up and down.

“Oh I just wanted to congratulate you,” Izaya grins. “On your relationship.” The words come out bitter for a reason he cannot understand. Perhaps all this time having Shizu-chan to himself as made him a bit possessive of his anger management monster. He doesn’t know. He sets that aside for now in favor of focusing on the conversation.

Shizuo blinks. “My relationship?”

Varona speaks up. “I believe he’s talking about us.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Shizuo stares at Izaya’s smiling face. “I just don’t get why a hateful freak like you would congratulate us.”

“Ah Shizu-chan,” Izaya sighs airily. “So rude as always. Does your girlfriend realize how much of a monster you are?”

Shizuo’s gaze hardens. He swipes at Izaya, but the shorter man leans away.

“Well anyway I have to go now,” Izaya laughs. “Business and whatnot. Bye, Shizu-chan, hate you later!” He blows the man a kiss.

He’s skipping away when a vending machine crashes to the ground next to him. That’s when he runs.

Shizuo doesn’t follow him, and that’s okay. Izaya makes his way to the cat cafe where Val had been chatting with the group. He checks for anything suspicious, asks around and takes a break with the cats.

He finally leaves, in a haze of cat euphoria and it’s started to rain. He puts his hood up and heads home. Everything is quiet, including work. Izaya knows enough not to trust that.

For about a week, everything is fine. Izaya goes back to handling jobs, meeting with clients and digging up juicy information. He looks out for Ueshima on the side and doesn’t visit the chat room. He’s got a sticky note covering up his computer’s camera, and no one asks about him, which makes him feel a little lonely—but that’s ridiculous because Izaya is never lonely. Not around the people he loves so much. 

Needless to say it cannot last.

**There is no one in the chat.**

**Chrome has entered the chat.**

**Chrome: Helloooo, where is everybody? It’s only 7 on a thursday…**

**Carn has entered the chat.**

**Carn: No Kanra? That sucks. </3**

**Chrome: why do you wanna speak to kanra? Hi by the way.**

**Carn: Hello**

**Setton has joined the chat:**

**Setton: Hello!**

**Setton: Talking about Kanra? I haven’t seen him in a while.**

**Carn: Her.**

**Setton: Excuse me?**

**Carn: Kanra is a her.**

Time to ban. Izaya hastily opens up his laptop and goes to the chat room.

**Kanra has joined the chat.**

**Carn has been banned from the chat.**

**Setton: Hey—what? Kanra?**

**Kanra has left the chat.**

**Chrome: That’s weird.**

**Setton: Yeah.**

**Chrome has left the chat.**

**Setton has left the chat.**

**There is no one in the chat.**

Izaya checks the banned IP for Carn. It’s also somewhere in Ikebukuro, another cafe once he references the maps. Maybe—He thinks of something then, that might brighten up his day a little.

At 9:00 pm, he logs onto the chat room. As Kanra.

**Kanra has entered the chat.**

**Setton: Kanra! What’s with the banning?**

**Kanra: we allll have enemies, setton**

**Setton: Yeah but, you’re acting weird.**

**Larc has entered the chat.**

**Setton: What’s with these new people?**

**Larc: Kanra~!! <3**

**Setton: Seriously what’s with this?? Why are all these new people pining for Kanra? Is this a dream?**

**Kanra: i almost got killed today. (T_T)/**

**Larc: What? :0**

**Setton: Actually?**

**Kanra: the meanie heiwajima shizuo totally smacked me. I think i have a concussion or something. either way my head really hurts now.**

Izaya sits back in his chair. It’s all lies, Shizuo’s only ever landed a blow on him a couple times. Now he just has to play along.

**Larc: What?! I’ll beat the punk up. How dare he lay a hand on my Kanra!**

**Setton: Are you two in a relationship? Or what?**

**Kanra: it’s complicated setton**

**Bakyura has entered the chat.**

**Setton: Hey Bakyura. Now I’m not alone in this.**

**Bakyura: Wait. Lemme catch up.**

**Bakyura: Kanra, you’re in a relationship?!?!?**

**Larc: I love her. <3 But someone has hurt her. HE will pay.**

**Kanra: avenge me! \\(^0^)/**

**Larc: Anything for you princess. <3**

Izaya doesn’t know how he feels about that.

**Kanra: got to go now guys. my head hurts so much.**

**Larc: Love you! <3**

**Setton: What?!?**

**Bakyura: What the hell!?**

Izaya feels the familiar uncomfortableness sweep over him. He pauses for a second. Too long to avoid suspicion.

**Kanra: <3**

**Kanra has left the chat.**

**Larc has left the chat.**

**Setton: .**

**Bakyura: .**

**Setton: .**

**Bakyura: seriously what the fuck.**


	9. the package

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just gonna put this over here now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ehhh not very pleased with this chapter. oh well. gotta post and do hw.

Hewajima Shizuo is at all time high. He’s dating a ravishing Russian, he hasn’t been bothered by the flea since that last incident, and he hasn’t had any big blowups at work. Plus, he gets to work with his girlfriend, so, maximum time together. Shizuo is actually happy. Life is for once going his way.

He doesn’t want to think about all the ways things could go wrong. Let’s focus on the good stuff—like Varona. The fact that she doesn’t see him as a monster but as a skilled human being, capable of kicking ass and smiling while doing so. 

Shizuo is having dinner at Russia Sushi (Varona’s treat) with Tom and Varona after a long day of work. Shizuo doesn’t mind the work, as he gets paid for it, and it’s always good to have extra cash when dating someone.

“Excuse me,”

Shizuo turns around in his seat. There’s a man, hood pulled over his head and mask covering half his face. He’s an odd sight, even in Ikebukuro.

“What?” He asks gruffly. He doesn’t like the look of this guy. Something about him reminds him of the flea. Same shiftiness.

“Are you Heiwajima Shizuo?”

“Yeah.” Tom and Vorona are looking on curiously. “Why?” His words are guarded.

“I’ve been looking for you, see,” the man cocks his head to the left. “You hurt the girl I love.”

 

One rooftop away, Izaya kicks his feet against the wall, binoculars held up so he can get a good look. There’s literally no loss to this plan. Either his stalker gets beaten up, or his worst enemy gets beaten up, which is a pipe dream, yes, he knows.  _ And  _ he may discover the stalker’s identity. So once again, literally no loss. He laughs, quietly to himself, as he watches this play out.

 

Shizuo stares, dumbfounded. “I don’t hurt girls.” He says, irritably. “Someone put you up to this?”

“No,” the masked man smiles. “I’m just avenging my love, so to speak. She is the most precious thing in the world and I won’t have you going around giving out head injuries like they’re candy.”

“You’re kidding me right?” Shizuo growls. “I  _ don’t  _ hit girls. What’s her name anyway? I’ll tell you if I’ve even met her.”

“Her name, is Orihara Kiyoko.”

The bar that they’re sitting at goes  _ crunch  _ as Shizuo’s monster grip crushes the wood.

“Orihara?” He asks. “I’ve never met her.” His teeth are clenched together so it comes out sounding a little weird.

“Really? Because that’s not what she said after you bashed her head in.”

“I don’t hit  _ girls!”  _ Shizuo  snaps. He rips off the piece of the bar counter and grips it in one hand. Simon shouts a warning but before Shizuo can do anything with the piece of wood—there’s a knife in his stomach.

He pauses, staring down at the protruding handle. What type of knife  _ is  _ this?

 

Izaya grins from his far away perch. This is too good.

 

“You.  _ Bastard!”  _ He throws the wood at the man, who’s already halfway out the door. The man slips out of the way, and starts running. Vorona hops off her barstool and darts after him.

Shizuo keeps staring at the knife handle—and the red that is quickly staining his shirt. He is  _ livid.  _ That. Bastard—used a different name and tried to kill him? He’s shaking. That’s how mad he is. But then there’s the steady pain in his gut telling him that he  _ needs  _ to go to Shinra’s, because he can still die from blood loss.

And he won’t die before he rips that flea apart.

He’s at Shinra’s apartment, about ten minutes later, being patched up. Tom’s there too, worried sick.

“So what exactly happened?” Shinra asks. Celty hands him a needle, and he starts to thread it. He’s as cheerful as ever. “How’d you get stabbed in broad daylight?”

“Hell if I’d know,” Shizuo snorts. “Some bastard came up to me while I was eating sushi and started going on about how I had hurt Izaya—” Shizuo pauses. “Or—Kiyoko.”

“Wait what?” Shinra stops finally threads the needle. “Like, he knew Kiyoko?”

“Knew?” Shizuo frowns. “More like claimed to be in love with—” he doesn’t know which pronouns to use. “Her,” he finally settles on female pronouns since they’re talking about Kiyoko. “I think he called her the ‘most precious thing’ in the world.”

Tom speaks up. “I’m sorry, I’m missing something. Is Orihara Kiyoko related to Orihara Izaya?”

“It’s complicated” Shizuo quickly replies.

“That’s kinda a weird coincidence,” Shinra hums. “A short while ago Izaya visited Celty and I to ask if we’d told anyone about Kiyoko.”

“Yeah.” Shizuo thinks that maybe something is up. “The flea called me like a week ago and asked the same thing.”

Celty types something on her phone, then deletes it, then retypes.

[I don’t know if this is related, but there’s been a bunch of weird visitors to the chat room lately. They’ve all been fixated with Izaya. The last visitor was the weirdest. He and Izaya acted like they were in a relationship or something.]

Shizuo and Shinra both look at each other.Back again

“Is Izaya in love with someone?” Shinra asks finally.

“I think someone’s in love with him.” Shizuo counters. Something about this situation doesn’t feel right. It feels— _ wrong.  _ “Or, Kiyoko at least.”

Shinra finishes patching Shizuo up and stands. “You should avoid lots of movement…”

Shizuo’s phone buzzes. He pulls it out and checks the text that just arrived from Varona.

[I lost him.]

“ _ Fuck,”  _ Shizuo swears under his breath. He stands up as well. “Thanks. I have to go meet Varona now,” he hurriedly leaves, Tom in tow.

“Huh,” Shinra thinks aloud. “This whole situation is quite strange, right Celty?”

[Yeah, I agree. Something’s up.]

Izaya had made sure to follow the masked man after he fled Russia Sushi. However, Ueshima quickly slipped in between buildings like he was a snake and disappeared. Izaya scowled, watching Varona skid down the alley and pause, unsure of where to go.

Izaya wanders home.

There’s a package waiting for him in the lobby. He carries it upstairs to his apartment before he opens it, already knowing who it’s from.

He opens it once he’s inside the safety(?) of his apartment. Namie is just leaving, so he waits for her to exit first.

When he is finally alone, Izaya dares. He flips out his knife and opens the box, revealing a mess of fabric. He pauses.

What.

He pulls out a strapless, multilayered, red and black dress. It’s pretty, and alights something in Izaya that he’d refused to think about for a long time.

_ —He neglects to tell his parents that he still likes the feel of a skirt, or the waist pinching of a dress, or the wobble of heels—  _ He holds the dress to himself, seeing that it cuts off just above the knees, with a flowy, flowery skirt and a black sash around the middle. He hasn’t owned a dress in years. He looks back at the box sitting on his coffee table and sits back down, setting the dress carefully aside.

Next—he regards with interest—Izaya pulls out several pairs of women’s undergarments. All lacey and delicate. He spends a few minutes with his face in his hands after putting them aside. Finally, he pulls out a box of chocolates. There’s a letter taped to the inside of the lid. Izaya unfolds it dubiously.

_ Kiyoko, _

_ I cannot tell you just how beautiful you are. All my life I’ve feared the fact that you would not love me back, but now, as I press my advances, I realize that you are very much in love with me, as I am with you. I bought you some gifts to show my affections. I hope to meet with you soon, in person this time.  _

_ Love,  _

_ Ueshima _

Izaya puts the letter away, then examines the box. There is no return address. He could have assumed as much. He looks again at the dress.

Maybe… maybe if he plays along, this can be over sooner rather than later. A gut feeling tells him that’s not how it works. He feels kinda sick now, not because there’s a stalker that’s in love with the idea of Kiyoko, but because he wants to put on the dress.

The dress. He wants to wear it. Not because Ueshima bought it for him, not because he’s female, because he’s  _ not,  _ but he’s not male either. Or maybe he is. He doesn’t really know. Another day. Another day is today. Izaya doesn’t want to have to deal with this right now. He rubs his nose and continues to stare at the dress. It’s quite pretty, beautiful even. He hasn’t touched a dress in too long. Maybe, maybe it’d be better if he played along? He knows he’s just trying to find an excuse to wear the dress, but that’s okay. He wants to. 

Why does he have to find an excuse though? It’s his home, and now it’s his dress—and it’s certainly  _ his  _ body. Fuck it.

He grabs the dress off the couch and takes it upstairs to the bedroom. Izaya changes there, in the dimly lit room. He’s observing himself in the mirror, binder off and chest filling the bodice of the dress and he’s thinking that maybe— _ “I’m already halfway aren’t I?” His eyes house a dangerous glint. “I might as well go all the way.”— _ Izaya heads to the bathroom and finds his razor. Then he shaves his legs, one by one. It’s just like riding a bike.

When he’s done, he doesn’t feel any different.

Relief.

A plan is forming, slowly but surely, an idea, to play with Ueshima until he’s close enough that she can slide a blade across his neck.

He. He, right? Izaya grins. Ah, what does it matter! He’s above this petty thought.

It’s time to pursue a predator.


	10. the postman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ehhhhhhhhhh enjoy. shits gonna go down soon, so b ready.

**Kanra has joined the chat.**

**Setton: Hey Kanra.**

**Tarō Tanaka: Hello!**

**Kanra: hi everyone! ^.^**

**Saika: Hello**

**Bakyura: eww, not you again.**

**Kanra: glad to talk to you too, pal. <3**

**Setton: Uh, speaking of, that. Kanra, are you—romantically involved—with anyone?**

**Bakyura: Pffffft him? romantically involved?? haha!**

**Larc has joined the chat.**

Izaya narrows his eyes. Great. He reaches up to remove the post it note from the camera.

**Kanra: well as a matter of fact i am. (^w^) <3**

**Bakyura: WHAT?**

**Setton: Oh. So I guess it is true then.**

**Larc: What’s true?**

**Tarō Tanaka: ?**

**Larc: I just read the chat. kanra, you she-devil.**

**Kanra:     (^////^)**

**Tarō Tanaka: ??**

**Kanra: by the way larc, i got your package. you really shouldn’t have.**

**Setton: What package?**

**Tarō Tanaka: ???**

**Saika: Yes, do tell.**

**Larc: Oh you did? awesome! Did you like what i bought you??**

**Kanra: i’m wearing it right now (^3^)**

**Kanra: larc sent me a lovely box of goodies**

**Larc: <3 cause i love you**

**Bakyura: No way… o.O**

**Tarō Tanaka: Is this actually happening?**

**[PRIVATE CHAT]** Izaya grins.

**Larc: Kiyoko, my love, i’m scared and yet thrilled.**

**Kanra: i gotta say, i was kinda scared at first, but this is… nice.**

**Larc: <3**

**Kanra: I was thinking we should go on a date sometime… tomorrow is saturday, how about we meet up somewhere in ikebukuro in the evening? i’d love to see what’s under that mask of yours.. ^3^**

**Larc: Really?**

**Larc: I mean, sure, but, i just, i’ve waited so long, this feels like a dream.**

**Larc: You look amazing in that dress by the way.**

**Kanra: spying on me again~? how naughty~**

**Larc: only for you. You look truly stunning. I picked it because i thought it’d bring out the reds in your eyes.**

**Kanra: so thoughtful~ <3**

**Larc: So, tomorrow night then? How about we meet in front of Russia Sushi at 8:00?**

**Kanra: It’s a date~!**

**Larc: Wear your dress too, that way I can recognize you easier.**

**Kanra: :0 you don’t remember me?**

**Larc: No no no, sorry if it came across like that. I actually just want to see you in my gift in person.**

**Kanra: What about my image though? As a guy?** Izaya wants to try and get out of the dress wearing because he has a reputation to uphold. He doesn’t want  _ everyone  _ to know about his secret.

**Larc: Kiyoko-chan, you must accept yourself as you really are. As you are meant to be. Love yourself for who you are. You are a strong, independant woman who should embrace her femininity. You are a precious flower.** Izaya is rolling his eyes.  **A gracious swan, and I love that about you.**

**Kanra: ...that’s so sweet. (^///^) fine then. I will.** Quite reluctantly at that.

**Larc: Till tomorrow my love.**

**[END PRIVATE CHAT]**

**Kanra has left the chat.**

**Larc has left the chat.**

Izaya gets up and stretches. The plan is falling into place perfectly. He’ll lure Ueshima in and destroy him. Nevermind that this man is human. He cannot deal with having someone follow his every move.

His phone buzzes then. It’s his work cell phone, the black one. He taps answer and holds it to his ear.

“Hello,” he says, voice sounding loud in the quiet room.

“Orihara?” 

Izaya laughs. “Well there’s a voice I hadn’t expected to hear in a while. Varona, what brings you to the phone? Is your relationship with Shizu-chan falling apart already?”

“No,” the woman responds, voice with a hint of venom. “I need you to find information for me.”

“Information?”

“On a woman, I believe, called Kiyoko.”

Izaya’s smile drops. What is it with everyone being freakin obsessed with someone that  _ does not exist? _

“Why?” He asks, voice sharp.

“It is not of your business.”

“It actually  _ is,”  _ Izaya sighs. “See, as an info broker, information is my  _ job. _ ”

The line is silent for a moment and it reminds Izaya of the time calling Shizuo in the elevator, right after this whole thing started.

__ “Shizuo mentioned a Kiyoko,” Izaya stops breathing for a second. “He seems to be rather… interested.”

Izaya scowls. Trust Shizuo to be absolutely unpredictable. “Interested?” He asks innocently, to double check that his intuition is right.

“I will say no more,” the woman on the other end says. “Call me when you have something. I will pay you.” The call ends.

Izaya stares at his phone for a minute, mind processing what he just heard. “Shizuo is ‘interested’ in Kiyoko. And if Varona meant ‘interested’ like  _ that,  _ then Shizuo is even more of a dumb brute than he gave him credit for.

He puts that aside, but decides that—no. Another day.

The next morning is spent getting ready for his “date.” Izaya goes out and buys a pair of black flats and stockings and lipstick and eyeliner. He ignores the fact that he kinda likes splurging on women’s wear. He’s already called Namie and told her not to come in today. This could work.

He’s halfway to his apartment when he remembers that he  forgot to buy a clutch so he goes back and grabs a hand bag. When the cashiers ask he calls it an anniversary gift. Finally he walks home and gets ready.

Flats so he can run. The bag so he can carry his knife and essentials. Lipstick and eyeliner and stockings so he can fool.

He goes all out. By the time Izaya looks at himself in the mirror again, he can hardly recognize himself. In front of him stands a woman, Kiyoko, with short hair but a feminine face and alluring eyes. Kiyoko holds the clutch in one hand, switchblade tucked inside one of the pockets. She’s also got another blade tucked under the dress’ sash, just in case.

Kiyoko, (because that’s the identity she’s assuming right now) putters around the apartment for just about an hour, organizing the bookshelves idly. 

Finally, with thirty minutes before launch, she heads out and calls a taxi.


	11. mouse-trap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about that. i'm having a really hectic and crazy week with school. this is long overdue but I wrote ahead so the next updates should be on schedule. Enjoy~

She gets out of the taxi and walks when she’s close enough because she enjoys stretching her legs. She’s left her coat behind this time, for the sake of not being recognized, but it’s really pretty cold out. Kiyoko pauses, when she’s about a block away to double check that everything’s in place. She prefers not to kill but to have others do it for her. Today will be an exception.

Laughing to herself, she starts across the street separating her and her prey. She doesn’t see him, not yet at least, but maybe he’s waiting inside. 

Kiyoko pauses in her steps just meters from the door. A certain man has just stepped in front of her, on his way to eat or home or worse. Kiyoko feels a fire in her belly, spreading warmth from her stomach to the tips of her fingers and toes. She’s mad. Because Heiwajima Shizuo is  _ interested  _ in her. A girl that doesn’t exist. A flower that withered away long ago. A shadow.

“Shizu-chan!” She calls out, reaching out to grab at the back of his vest.

The monster turns around, eyebrow twitching. He stops. 

Kiyoko grins up at him. “What do you think?”

Shizuo is absolutely, completely, lost for words. He looks flabbergasted. He looks like there are lots of little Izayas falling from the sky carrying broccoli or something. He looks like he’s having a stroke.

“Wha-” He finally says, more than confused, bewildered and baffled combined.

“What is it Shizu-chan?” Kiyoko asks, voice positively  _ female _ .

“You—” He stops. “You’re—”

“I’m  _ what?”  _ She asks, voice dangerous. “Not  _ Kiyoko,  _ right? Because she  _ doesn’t  _ exist, Shizu-chan.” Her words drip with malice, suddenly so angry that she cannot see, cannot breathe.

“You—then why are you—”

“I’m off to a date,” Kiyoko responds, for a moment slipping back into her lilting tone. “Not with  _ you _ , thankfully. Though I suppose that makes you jealous, considering you’re  _ interested  _ in  _ Kiyoko. _ ”

Shizuo’s mouth opens and closes. He’s lost for words.

“But _ ,”  _ Kiyoko’s voice is loud. “You  _ are  _ aware that Kiyoko  _ died  _ a long time ago, right?”

Shizuo’s eyes finally darken. There’s a blush on his cheeks. It thrills and dismays the informant that Kiyoko has this much power over him, to leave him like a dumb beast. 

“Then why the hell are you going around dressed like a girl?” He splutters. “After all you did to keep your secret—you go out in public like  _ this?  _ How’re people not supposed to look at you and think  _ Kiyoko?” _

“Kiyoko doesn’t  _ exist!”  _ Kiyoko hisses loudly. 

“Like  _ hell  _ she doesn’t!”

“Kiyoko isn’t  _ real!”  _ Izaya shouts. Angry now, angry and tired of this ruse because why can’t he just act the way he wants to act and not get labeled for it? “Get that through your  _ thick, ugly, skull!  _ She’s  _ fake!  _ This is an  _ act!”  _ He’s never acted like this before. Not in public. Not this…  _ mad.  _

__ Shizuo looks like he’s about to explode. “Don’t talk about her like that!” 

“So you  _ are  _ interested!” Izaya sounds hysterical. How is this happening. He’s not hurt. He’s  _ not _ . Shizuo is  _ not  _ one of the only people that’s known him through his transition from female to male (so to speak). There were lots of other people, nameless faces and faceless names. “Why can’t you see it,  _ Shizu-chan,  _ why can’t everyone see it! She.  _ Doesn’t. Exist.  _ She existed at one point, but  _ not  _ now!”

With that, Izaya steps around Shizuo to keep walking. 

A hand closes around her arm. He’s yanked back to the beast, whose teeth are bared in a feral grin.

“Let go of me!” Izaya spits.

“If you’re not a girl, I can hit you, right,  _ Izaya-chan?”  _ Shizuo reels his fist back and Izaya’s eyes widen. Oops.

“Hey!” A familiar voice shouts. A heavy hand grabs at Shizuo’s arm. “Let her  _ go. _ ”

Shizuo turns his head, feeling crazy, that’s how mad he is. It’s the man in the mask. The man that stabbed him. The man that’s in love with Kiyoko. 

He lets go of Izaya in favor of smacking the man upside the head but he ducks out of the way, weaves his way under Shizuo’s arm and grabs Izaya’s hand. “Come on!” He takes off running.

Izaya’s glad he brought flats. They run through the streets and duck down a corner as—what do you call those boxes that hold newspapers—crunches into the ground behind them.

They don’t stop running until Izaya is out of breath and Ueshima is breathing hard. Izaya barely has time to pause, leaning against a nearby trash can, before he’s suddenly pressed against the wall of the alley they’re currently hiding in, hands on his own and lips against his neck. Izaya tries to move his hands, to grab at one of his knives, but he can’t move them from where they’re pressed against the stone on either sides of his head. Ueshima’s grip is strong, almost too strong to be friendly. His mask bumps and scratches against Izaya’s face and he wants to kick him away, but in order for this to work he needs to be accepting, pliable.

The man finally pulls away from Izaya’s neck. There’s bound to be marks on it. He presses his mouth against Izaya’s once, in a chaste kiss—and Izaya really didn’t want his first kiss to be like this so this better not count. Contrary to popular belief, Izaya does not get frisky. Not with the fucked up sense of romance that he has. 

Izaya feels one hand let go as tender fingers caress his cheek. 

“Kiyoko?” Izaya can hear the sounds of footsteps, the loud monstrous ones that can only belong to Shizu-chan. He wants to tell Ueshima that Kiyoko doesn’t exist. He wants to press his knife into the back of his stalker’s neck and watch him bleed love onto the pavement. He wants to wipe away the heat dripping from his eyes and sleep for years.

But more than anything, he wants to make Shizuo regret. Because, unwittingly, both their lives have revolved around each other since high school and now there’s someone new in Shizuo’s life and turns out—he’s never cared for Izaya, only Kiyoko—now his heart hurts and the fire flares up at the corners of his eyes.

“Yeah,” his voice breaks, and he tries to recover it but fails. “It’s Kiyoko.”

The man’s eyes are shrouded by the mask and the dark, but he leans forward and kisses the tip of Izaya’s nose. The footsteps are loud, rattling around in Izaya’s (or is it Kiyoko’s) head and it  _ hurts.  _ It’s  _ wrong.  _ He let’s his  _ stalker,  _ the man he is never supposed to trust, rub the fire off his cheeks with his thumb, like they’re dating. Like they’re lovers, but what does that  _ mean?  _ He can hear Shizuo right around the corner, so he presses himself against his enemy and lets Ueshima’s hands caress his waist, the small of his back. 

It’s not like his dreams. It’s cold, colder than ice, but it still cannot quench the fire that Izaya feels when he thinks of Shizuo and that  _ scares  _ him because he  _ doesn’t understand it. _

Shizuo turns the corner, and Izaya makes sure to look up at him, mustering defiance into his gaze as Shizuo stares. The beast’s face turns red, though with anger or embarrassment he cannot tell. Izaya shifts his gaze to the masked man, who is currently nipping at his ear. He is winning. Winning this game.

Izaya can hear the sounds of Shizuo’s footsteps, this time becoming fainter, as he leaves. Purpose served, he reaches towards his sash and slips out the knife, aiming to slash Ueshima’s throat in one quick strike. He grins. 

Izaya is suddenly thrown to the side, head knocking against the stone ground of the alley. He sees stars.

“You  _ bitch.”  _ Ueshima snarls, and Izaya is confused because he couldn’t have felt the knife, right? He pushes himself up to his elbows, head spinning, aware of the pain in his leg because he’s  _ fallen on his knife.  _ It feels like a scratch, possibly deep, but either way it’s bleeding. Izaya looks up at Ueshima.

“I heard what you said to that  _ bastard,”  _ The masked man shouts, and he sounds heartbroken. “About Kiyoko not existing. About this all being  _ fake. _ ” He spits on Izaya’s dress, even as Izaya tries to keep his surroundings from spinning. The informant looks up. He hadn’t planned for this.

“Even if  _ you  _ won’t accept yourself, _ I  _ still will, my  _ darling Kiyoko,”  _ the man steps toward Izaya, and the shorter man scrambles to his feet. Time to leave, now. This creep looks insane. Mad with rage and lust and love. Izaya books it down the street, away from Ueshima. He can hear the man pursuing him, but Izaya’s always been good at disappearing and he quickly loses him in the maze of Ikebukuro.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, if you want to see the dress that Iza is wearing, let me know, cause I'll totally show you the pic.


	12. bait

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy.

Izaya doesn’t dare go to his apartment, not when the man knows where he lives. Instead he goes to the next best thing. Shinra’s. He doesn’t care that he looks like shit from tripping and falling shortly after booking it, (still feeling dizzy) and the marks on his neck and the bruises around his arm do not help. He does not care that he is wearing a dress and no binder and flats and ripped stockings and lipstick and eyeliner. 

He does care that he has tear stains on his cheeks, so he tries to wipe those away as best he can.

It’s closer to 9:30 now, though Izaya lost his clutch which contained his phone a while ago. He’s tired and his feet hurt from running because his stockings rub against his feet weirdly. He’s limping too, because that cut turned out to be deeper than he thought.

He makes his way into the apartment lobby and past the faces staring at this tired, paranoid young woman. Because that’s what he looks like. The elevator ride is quiet, at least, calm before the undoubted ridicule. He scowls at that.

When Izaya finally gets to the end of the hall, he pauses. He could… not do this. Yes, that is always an option. But on the other hand he’s lost his wallet and there's no way he's staying out on the streets. Not like an animal. 

So he rings the doorbell, and idly scratches at his leg in the meantime. 

The door is yanked open. Shinra is grinning, which is weird because he usually doesn't look so happy to see Izaya. He's also carrying a bouquet of roses, which is odd as well. 

“Celty!” He sounds delighted. Then freezes. “Oh,” he finally says. “Hi Izaya,” and with that, he closes the door.

Izaya rings the doorbell again. Shinra opens the door immediately. He rubs his eyes. He closes the door and opens it again. 

“Are you going to let me in this time?” Izaya asks dryly.

Shinra starts to laugh. He laughs and laughs and laughs. He laughs till he cries. Izaya is not amused.

“You done yet?” He grumbles. Usually he’d be there to enjoy the humor as well, but he’s tired.

Shinra wipes away a tear and holds the door open for Izaya. “After you, ma’am.”

“Shut it.” Izaya doesn’t really know whether he’s talking about the door or the doctor.

Shinra closes the door. He’s still bubbling with mirth. “Izaya, what  _ happened?”  _ He asks, chuckling.

Izaya sighs, takes a moment to compose himself, and then smiles. “It’s a long story, Shinra,” he drawls.

“Well I’m here so—” Shinra pauses. “You’re bleeding.”

“Really?” Izaya feigns interest. “I hadn’t noticed,” He finally twists to examine the cut that slices diagonally across his calf. It’s deeper at one end, and stains his already dark stockings even darker. His heart hurts.

Shinra bites one lip. “Let me grab my bag,” he disappears into another room, returning with his medical bag. “Sit down,” he points towards the couch.

Izaya sits down and props his right leg up at an angle so Shinra has easier access to it. The fine fabric covering his leg is sticky with blood and the doctor has to eventually cut it and peel it away carefully. Izaya hisses in pain under his breath.

“So what did you do this time?” Shinra asks as he cleans out the wound.

Izaya ponders on what to say for a second, whether to reveal the stalker or the fact that—”I found out Shizu-chan is  _ interested  _ in Kiyoko,” he says, and it comes out real bitter. 

Shinra looks up. “Wait, really? That’s cool, I always figured he had a thing for you.”

“Not me,” Izaya deadpans, appalled. “Just Kiyoko.”

“Oh,” Shinra pauses in wrapping the cut. “Oh.” He looks up. “But why are you dressed like this?” He gestures towards Izaya’s dress. “Looks nice by the way.”

“Thanks,” Izaya waves a hand through the air. “I was actually going to meet someone, but then Shizu-chan ruined my plans,” he sighs. “And then I had to escape a psycho and all that, you know how it is.”

“I really don’t, Izaya,” Shinra sounds cheerful. “But I have so many questions! Why were you going to meet someone in a dress, is at the top of my list. Also, what psycho, and how did Shizu-chan react? Why is he interested? Doesn’t he realize that you’re not Kiyoko anymore?”

“Someone  _ gets  _ it,” Izaya watches Shinra sit back, work finished. “But that’s way too many questions for me to answer at this time…” He pauses. “Do you mind if I stay the night? I’m afraid I lost my wallet during my mad dash and I don’t have any money to pay for a taxi.”

“Oh, I can lend you some money,” Shinra chirps. “Or yanno, I could get Celty to drive you, but she’ll probably be too tired by the time she gets back and I wouldn’t want to do that to her.”

“I can’t go back to my apartment,” the informant explains. “There’s someone waiting for me there. A rather, awful individual.”

Shinra pursed his lips. “Well then... I guess you can stay the night, but we don’t have a room ready or anything.”

“That’s fine.” 

The door opens, down the hall again, and Shinra snatches his bouquet of roses off the coffee table and runs to the visitor. “Celty! I’ve missed you!” Izaya looks away, uninterested. “Izaya’s here, and he’s wearing a dress!”

The familiar helmet of Celty bobs as she takes the bouquet of flowers. Then she looks over to where Izaya is sitting. 

[No. Way.] She holds up her phone to Shinra, flowers tucked under her arm.

Shinra shrugs. “Seeing is believing, right?” 

Celty stares at Izaya, stares at her phone, just stares. She finally types something out.

[You look awful.]

“Rude,” Izaya rolls his eyes. “I’ll have you know I didn’t leave my apartment looking like this. This is just because of a recent turn of events.”

“Well honestly, Izaya, I think you look kinda nice.” Shinra speaks up. “It’s nice seeing you wear something different for a change.”

Izaya glances down at his dress. He bites his tongue. “Thank you,” he sighs again. He’s tired, and his head hurts, but he doesn’t want to ask for medicine because he doesn’t want to show that he’s so  _ human,  _ to be affected by a mere headache. He doesn’t want to accept that he might be on the same level as the humans he loves so much. He kind of curls in on himself, just a little, thinking back to hands on his and his first kiss stolen away.

Celty bends down so that she’s on “eye-level” with Izaya. [What happened?]

There’s a whirlwind of emotions that blow through Izaya’s mind. He doesn’t know what to feel. It’s like a jumbled mix of emotions. A tangled collection of frayed wires and torn threads.

“Someone loves me,” Izaya shrugs. “What can I say?”

[Yeah I figured as much. What’s /really/ going on?]

Izaya laughs. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

Celty’s shadows thrash behind her. Her fingers flash. [Why can’t you just tell us what’s going on?]

Izaya laughs. “That’d ruin the fun.”

Celty’s shadows creep towards the informant before she reigns them in, The suspicion, the one that’s been forming in her mind for a few days now, it fabricates.

[Izaya, are you being stalked?]

Izaya scowls at her. He says nothing, deciding not to answer that.

“Woah, Izaya, is that true?” Shinra asks, after catching what Celty’s phone had written on it. “That  _ would  _ make a lot of sense. Sort of. I mean, I’m still confused because you’re in a dress, but, you know, it’s fine.”

Izaya rubs at his mouth, the lipstick coming off onto the back of his hand. He doesn’t want to talk about it, least of all with these people. “Okay well I’m exhausted, so I’m going to sleep now, is there any specific room you want me to take?” He stands up, and then sits back down, leg throbbing. “On the other hand maybe here is fine.”

“Yeah you probably shouldn’t move,” Shinra agrees. “Would you like me to get you anything though? Like a glass of water?”

“That’d be nice.”

Shinra gets him a glass of water, and then him and Celty turn off the lights and go their separate ways.

Izaya stays awake only for a few minutes, before he finally drifts off to sleep.

It’s almost five in the morning. Almost, when Izaya’s awoken by a loud pounding on the door. He’s aware that sometime during the night a blanket was thrown on him, and that he’s a little, just a little, scared. Because who would go banging on Shinra’s door this early in the morning? Either Shizu-chan, or someone else entirely. He raises one hand to his neck, as if he could feel the marks that were undoubtedly there.

The door bangs again. Izaya sits up, leg aching. At least he should be able to hobble around a little. Maybe. The door bangs again, and Izaya stays quiet. She— _ he  _ is not scared. He’s  _ not. _

It’s probably Shizu-chan, who got his ass shot or something and needs medical attention.

Shinra putters out of his room sleepily, as the door knocks become more and more frantic. He glances at Izaya on his way to the door.

The doctor opens the door, clearly expecting the same person that Izaya’s expecting, but instead, there’s another man there, one that he doesn’t recognize, a hood pulled over his head and a black half mask over his face. Shinra is immediately on guard.

“Can I help you?”  He asks warily.

The man licks his lips. “I’m looking for Orihara,” he says.

Shinra laughs. “Oh yeah, he showed up earlier, but then he left.”

“She.”

“Eh?” Shinra blinks.

“Kiyoko is a she.”

“Who’s Kiyoko?”

“Don’t play dumb with me you bastard!” The man suddenly has Shinra’s shirt in one hand. “I know she’s here!”

“Ha… ha… I really don’t know what you’re talking about… Maybe you could let go of me please?”

The man shoves Shinra into the wall and stomps past him into the living room. He immediately spies Izaya on the couch and snaps a hand forward to grab a fistful of Izaya’s hair.

Izaya yelps, a sudden involuntary sound that simply escapes. He can see a dark mass of shadow behind the man, a warning. Ueshima is suddenly yanked across the room and smashes into the kitchen counter. He groans, and Izaya tries to stand up, he hates feeling so  _ useless,  _ but he sits back down instead, an dull aching pain washing through his leg.

Celty is there now, a mess of shadows and anger. She picks up the man with a strand of dark and throws him down the hall back towards Shinra. Ueshima rolls to the side, then shakily gets to his feet, mask off, hood down and face revealed. His face is partially obscured by shadows of the dark hall, but he looks… Normal. There's nothing particularly abnormal about his features. Shinra comes up behind him so he twists and elbows the doctor in the face, fleeing out the door, slamming it shut behind him. Celty sprints down the hall and out the door, much like Varona did not long ago.Somehow he knows it'll end the same way.

Izaya is breathing hard now, breathing fast, because he can't seem to shake this predator, can he? He can't kill him, can't escape. He tries to calm down and succeeds. 

His head hurts. Celty comes back some minutes later empty handed, and Izaya knows it ended the same way after all. Shinra hugs her, asks her if she's alright, tells her he loves her. Izaya feels a cold pit at the bottom of his stomach. He almost falls back asleep, so tired, tired of feeling this way. 

Celty’s phone is held up before him. [Is that the creep that's in love with you?]

Izaya doesn't have the energy to avoid questions anymore.

“Yes,” his voice is light, as if speaking about something forbidden. “He is.”

Shinra sits down next to Izaya, who curls up a little more. It’s nice to have admirers, or fans, but this got out of hand before it began. It probably hadn’t helped that Izaya had gone along with it to get back at Shizuo.

“You alright, Izaya?” Shinra asks. “You seem… off.” He doesn’t want to say that Izaya seems more… human right now, doesn’t want to set him off.

“I’m fine,” Izaya rubs his head where Ueshima had pulled at his hair. It hurts. 

“You sure?” Shinra presses one hand against Izaya’s forehead for a brief moment. “You’re shaking pretty badly.”

Izaya hadn’t even noticed, but he does now, the fact that his knees are knocking together and his hands are trembling. He forces them to still, remembering his panic attack in the quiet of his apartment. Maybe this stalker thing is taking more of a toll than he realized. Izaya doesn't say anything, because he doesn't know what to say, for once.

Shinra removes his hand from Izaya’s forehead. “At least your temperature feels okay,” he says reassuringly. “I was worried you might have a fever, because you're acting so weird.”

Izaya looks down at his hands for moment. “Yeah.” He's never been so revealed, uneasy, confused. 

Shinra stretches. “I'm gonna go back to sleep for a while. You too Celty?”

[Yeah, I'm beat.]

Izaya reaches for the blanket, pulling it over himself once more. He’s leaning on the side of the couch, almost sitting but not really. He doesn’t know how the man keeps finding him. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t. He.

He smiles, just a little, at the word that doesn’t quite fit.


	13. loose lips

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ehhh not so hapy with this one

Izaya stays in Shinra’s apartment the better part of the morning. They all do, sleeping in till past ten. When Izaya finally wakes up and stays up, his leg is actually bearable. He hobbles to the kitchen and gets another glass of water, then he goes to the bathroom. There’s a long mirror in the bathroom, and he takes a moment to stare at himself.

The edge of his dress and the back of his legs are dusty and dirty from running. His stockings are ripped and torn, a whole piece cut out from where Shinra sliced through to get to the wound on his leg which is covered in a swathe of bandages. Several layers of the dress are frayed and have holes in them. There are angry red and purple marks on Izaya’s arm from Shizuo and dark spots on his neck from Ueshima. There’s lipstick on the back of his hand and on the corner of his mouth and his eyes are red and ringed with dark from sleeping with eyeliner. His hair's a mess, and as he stares at himself in the mirror, he can barely recognize himself. A shiver brushes down his spine, but it’s not of discomfort. He can’t really tell what it’s from.

Izaya ditches the bathroom and just kinda stumbles his way to the couch, collapsing on it. He thinks for a moment, of Shinra and Celty and their sleeping forms resting in another room. He thinks of their love, gets up, hobbles to the door, and leaves.

He’s halfway down the block and he’s already getting all sorts of stares. He looks awful, but he doesn’t really care. He just needs a change of clothes from his apartment. It occurs to him that he could have asked Celty or Shinra to get him some clothes, but he brushes that away with thoughts of love and what that might be.

Izaya decides against the back streets and alleyways. He needs to be in public because then no one can really confront him. Fuck ridicule. He’s doing this for his safety. 

He crosses past the manga cafe where he’d talked to his sisters previously. Hmm. His leg doesn’t really hurt anymore.

He passes by Russia Sushi—and this definitely was a bad idea how could you be so logical but leave when you think of something you’ll simply never have?—and Shizuo is talking to Varona again so Izaya backs away and finds another way to go in that direction.

It doesn’t work. He feels a gloved hand slap over his mouth and another around his wrist as Shizuo—still rather far away stiffens and sniffs the air, like a dog. Izaya vehemently bites at the hand but the glove is thick and tough. The hand on his wrist yanks his arm behind his back and snatches up his other wrist as well. Izaya struggles, but it’s like swimming through mud. For some reason he can’t move as well as he wants to. He’s dragged backwards as a kiss is pressed to the top of his head and—yes, he already knows who this is. How does he keep  _ finding  _ him?

Shizuo looks back at Varona, but then continues to glance around.

“What?” She asks coldly, like a winter morning.

“Just thought I smelled that fle—” Shizuo’s eyes alight on a flash of red, retreating back into the shadows. “Hang on,” He takes a step in the direction of the flash. It’s an alley, shrouded by dark shadows from the tall buildings.

“Huh,” Shinra says, walking back into Celty’s room. “Izaya's gone. That's not good.” 

[Why?]

“Well…” Shinra rubs the back of his neck. “I stuck some painkillers in his water. He’s going to be a bit off…”

Izaya flails with little success. He kicks at his captor but Ueshima (because it's got to be Ueshima) continues to haul her—no—him—backwards. He can hear the sounds of a car running behind him, the steady chug of the motor. He flails again, desperate now because he’s  _ already  _ had his first kiss taken away and he doesn’t —want—

Shizuo takes a few steps down the alley. It’s dark but he thinks he sees—

{a whirl of red and black and pale skin and frightened eyes in a place they don’t belong}

He sees it now. A girl, hidden by the shadows of the buildings, in a dark dress being hauled backwards.

“Hey!” He shouts, and for a moment things get quiet. He can hear the sound of a body slapping the ground and launches forward. “You’d better not be hurting that  _ chick,”  _ he hears the click of a switchblade and doesn’t hold back.

When Izaya is violently thrown to the ground for the second time in twenty-four hours, he thinks, maybe this sucks. Just  _ maybe _ . His head is knocked against the pavement again and he can’t hear anything through the ringing in his ears. Feeling dizzy, he presses his hands against the ground and pushes himself up, head spinning. He can hear shouting now, as the ringing has faded. His head hurts. He pushes himself to his feet, looks behind him once and sees —

(a beast, utter destruction, fear and regret — a broken apology)

He books it, for the second time in twenty four hours, with a numb leg and feeling of fire that he pushes away.

Shizuo didn’t expect the man to go that… high. By that, he means that he flung him in the air and he must have cleared a building or something. Either way he doesn’t come back down, so Shizuo turns his attentions to the chick.

Welp, she’s gone.

He grumbles to himself. Probably afraid of him or something. Or maybe scared. Either way, it’s probably not good to just leave her wandering around. Maybe she’s hurt. He goes back to let Varona know what’s going on.

“Do you want me to come with you?” She asks. 

Shizuo hesitates, but inside of Russia Sushi, Simon calls for Varona anyway, and she goes inside to help with an apparent ‘sushi disaster.’ 

Shizuo has no idea where to find this chick. He crosses the alley and spies a van, still running at the end just before the next street. Weird. But focus. He walks out onto the streets and spies Kadota, walking with Erika.

“Hey,” he stops in front of them. “Don’t suppose you two saw a girl in a red dress run by?”

“You mean Izaya?”

“Eh?” Shizuo frowns. “Izaya?” That couldn’t have been—but no—the dress was the same—the eyes were the same… no way did Izaya stay out on the streets right? What’s the deal?

“Yeah!” Erika says cheerfully. “Izaya in a dress. Which is weird but I mean, not unwanted, go get him Shizuo!”

Shizuo stops and blushes as Kadota scoffs. “He has a girlfriend, Erika.”

“Still!”

Shizuo looks around. He doesn’t know how to feel now. It seems like Izaya was almost kidnapped just a few minutes ago, but on the other hand this is Izaya. It’s too much trouble for a runt like him.

“The black bike!” Erika shrieks in excitement, and Shizuo glances up to see Celty pulling to a stop right next to them. She hops off her bike looking frantic.

[Have you seen Izaya?]

“Uh,” Shizuo pauses. “Well apparently I just saw him.”

“Wearing a dress I might add!” Erika smiles.

“Why?” Shizuo narrows his eyes. “He do something awful?”

Celty glances at Kadota and Erika, who shuffle closer.

[If you see him, let me know. There’s someone looking for him.]

Erika nods. “Okay!”

Shizuo feels the stirring in the pit of his stomach that tells him that something is up. “I’m guessing the freak that just tried to kidnap him was the guy?”

[What?!]

“Yeah. I saved him on accident,” Shizuo runs a hand through his hair. “I thought he was Kiyoko.” The words come out emotionless, but inside Shizuo is in turmoil. It wasn’t long ago that Varona questioned him, about who this “Kiyoko” was and why he was mentioning her name. It was longer ago that Shizuo thought of Kiyoko, a hidden beauty, and thought maybe she’d be pretty.

[Did you see where he went?] Celty types very fast. [He has no way to get home except walk. And he’s on painkillers.]

“Oh,” Shizuo shrugs. He honestly doesn’t care all that much.

[Shinra’s worried about him. Can you help look?]

Shizuo sighs. “I guess… not that I want to…”

Celty looks down at her phone. then back up at Shizuo. [Shizuo, he’s different.]

“Don’t know what that’s supposed to mean,” Shizuo cracks his knuckles. “He’s the same as always. Don’t worry, I’ll find him and beat the shit out of him.”

“Yanno,” Erika speaks up. “He went that way,” she points a ways down the street. “But I think you could be doing something a lot better than beating him up, just saying.”

Celty looks at Shizuo. [Hop on.]

“Do we really have to find him?” Shizuo groans.

[Do it for Shinra if nothing else. I know Izaya’s annoying but no one deserves a stalker.]

“So that’s what it is,” Shizuo mutters. “I thought as much.” 

He and Celty hop on the back of the black bike and speed off, leaving Kadota and Erika far behind.


	14. sunken ships

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long. :P

Izaya is tired of running. 

He’d fled down the street, crossed over through another alley and power walked for like too many blocks. He can barely get a breath in and he can only imagine that it would be so much worse in a binder. He can’t help but feel paranoid, that Ueshima will try and attack him again. This game was kind of fun in the beginning, he has to admit, but it’s not fun anymore. It’s exhausting. His leg doesn’t really hurt though, that’s a plus. 

He’s heading towards Shinjuku, just trying to get home so he can  _ change for fuck’s sake,  _ and take a  _ shower for crying out loud.  _ His head hurts  _ so bad— _ Orihara Izaya has never been a fan of pain—

Izaya finally stops under a bridge, the sounds of cars above him calming him down a little with it’s familiar honks and beeps. He thinks he knows where he is, but he’s not positive. Either way he’s heading in the right direction.

Don’t quote him on that.

**Saika has entered the chat.**

**Bakyura: so shits going to get crazy in ikebukuro today. For a while actually.**

**Saika: what are we talking about?**

**Tarō Tanaka: Haven't you heard?**

**Saika: Heard what?**

**Tarō Tanaka: A dollars member posted on the main forum with a reward for Orihara Izaya.**

**Bakyura: the informant dude. ew.**

**Saika: What?!**

**Tarō Tanaka: yeah.**

**Saika: dead? Or alive?**

**Tarō Tanaka: alive. Isn’t that a bit weird? Anyway, the word spread and now almost every gang is on the lookout for him so they can get the reward.**

**Saika: what reward?**

**Bakyura: a million yen!! Can you believe it! It’s creazy!**

**Bakyura: crazy**

**Saika: why does the dollar member want him?**

**Tarō Tanaka: no one knows, but everyone wants the yen.**

**Bakyura: /I/ want the yen too.**

**Bakyura: I could really use some spending money. (;__;)**

Izaya’s leg is starting to hurt again. He ignores it. Just has to get to his apartment.

He’s really realizing how stupid it was to leave Celty and Shinra’s, doesn’t know why he did it in the first place but he has the suspicion that Shinra may have slipped him something. Probably something to ease the pain in his leg. Either way he’s a sorry sight, limping again and looking trashy.

“Is that the guy?”

“What  _ guy?”  _

__ Izaya looks over his shoulder briefly. A random idiot is snapping pictures of him.

“Orihara! It looks like him!”

“That’s a  _ girl.” _

__ Izaya grinds his teeth and keeps hobbling.

“That’s  _ gotta  _ be him.”

“Once again Akio, that’s a  _ girl. And  _ she’s hurt…”

“Screw that, don’t you want the reward?”

Izaya stops. He turns around, gaze set on the two men trailing him. “A reward?” He asks. This is a nightmare.

“It  _ is  _ you!”

Izaya bolts across the street, narrowly avoiding cars and trucks alike. What has Ueshima done? Did he set a bounty on his head? This is  _ crazy!  _ He just wants to fucking— _ get home!  _ He’s dismayed because this has gotten out of hand so fast.

“Woah woah,” a hand takes hold of one of Izaya’s forearm in a nasty grip that has him twisting back around to look at the man currently stopping them from plowing into each other. Izaya doesn’t trust anyone. Not one bit. He trusts that man about as far as he can run, which currently is not that far.

“Knew it was you,” the man laughs, pulling Izaya along. Izaya immediately stumbles, because  _ fuck,  _ that leg is really starting to annoy him. The man keeps him moving however, and that hurts. Izaya tries to wrench his arm out of the man’s grip, but he  _ can’t and would you stop fucking moving!  _

He takes the embarrassing way out and screams, high pitched and loud. Because fuck it, do it for safety.  _ You really are swearing a lot today. With reason. _

Izaya is tossed into the wall and his scream chokes when he collides with the concrete. The man twists his arms behind his back.

“Look I don’t know what the hell your deal is going around dressed like that, but I’m  _ done  _ playing around. You’re going to come with me and be a good girl, right?”

Izaya kicks backwards viciously with his good leg. It collides with something solid and stiff. The man grunts in pain and pulls Izaya away only to slam him back into the wall. Izaya can literally feel his conditioning worsening as he thinks. His arms feel like they’re about to  _ break— _

The pressure is suddenly alleviated, and Izaya looks over his shoulder to see

(what the fuck)

Heiwajima

Shizuo, currently punching that guy into infinity. He goes flying across the pavement and Izaya thinks, with no small amount of glee, that maybe he’s dead. On the other hand he’d rather not be in debt to Shizu-chan of all people. 

“Alright flea,” Shizuo grabs his arm and yanks him towards the street, where Celty is waiting. “You’re coming with us.”

The black bike shifts, shivers, becomes a horse and carriage. Shizuo gets on the back of the horse, Izaya in the carriage, trying to look dignified despite the mess he’s become. They take off, and this is so surreal Izaya has—he's pretty sure he's hallucinating or something because why would Heiwajima Shizuo of all people save him.—no idea. Shizu-chan must be thinking the same right now.

Shizuo is done with this bullshit. The flea keeps getting into trouble and he and Celty are left behind to clean up the shitty mess. They found him pressed against the wall under a bridge and Shizuo still feels the rush of rage, fresh in his mind from seeing Kiyoko against the wall like a common—ah, what’s the word? — he couldn’t remember through the red that invaded the back of his eyes and left through his fists. The freak goes flying, and that’s fine. He drags the flea back to Celty and they get on to the newly morphed carriage and they’re off. It’s pretty damn surreal. He’d never expected to save Kiyoko of all people.

Or is it Izaya.

See that’s a problem, where Izaya or Kiyoko or whatever his or her name is now is trotting around in a dress and expects to be —what? It’s a load of confusing bullshit. Izaya and Kiyoko—all of it. Shizuo is  _ really  _ fed up with it. He glances back at Iza-oko and—

He looks freaking awful. Tired and shaky and the most vulnerable he’s ever seen him to date. He looks, like an otherworldly ghost of his former self, in more ways than one.

They pull into the parking garage under Shinra’s apartment and Izaya gets out with as much grace as he can muster into his worn out body. It’s like he hasn’t slept in days. But that’s ridiculous because he slept at Shinra’s just last night.

Izaya’s leg hurts like fuck now, and this is stupid. He’s tired of this entire thing. His shoulders ache from having his arms twisted and he doesn’t want to feel indebted to an  _ animal.  _ He doesn’t like the way Shizuo is looking at him, like he’s someone else. Izaya just wants to leave.

“Transporter,” he sighs. “I don’t suppose you can take me to my place, ne?” His usual lilting voice sounds a bit deranged, even to himself. “I could really use a change of clothes.”

Celty’s been looking at something on her phone, but she looks up at the sound of his voice. Shizuo stands behind her, idly looking away, feigning disinterest.

[Everyone’s looking for you,] Celty types out. [I just read it on the chat. There’s a reward. You should probably stay here until this blows over.]

Izaya’s lips form a thin line across his face. “I’m rather  _ tired, _ ” he stresses. “Of being in a dress —” Shizuo jolts just enough for Izaya to notice. “—and I’d very much like to regroup.”

[It’s not safe.]

Izaya laughs. “Does it look like I care? The time for safety ended  _ yesterday _ . Unfortunately I don’t have money, or I’d just get a taxi, but instead I have to rely on you to do the job you know so well.”

Celty seems to think for a moment. She turns to Shizuo, who’s currently smoking and shows him her phone.

“Ha,” Shizuo barks a laugh. “With him-er?” He coughs and Izaya pretends not to notice the way he fumbled with his pronouns. “Like hell.”

Celty types something else and holds her phone up. Izaya resists the urge to crane his neck and look at the writing. 

Shizuo glances at Izaya, crushes his cigarette between two fingers and sighs.

“Fine, but I’m only doing this for you.”

Izaya feels the familiar heat, the frightening fire surge through him. He looks away. This is  _ stupid _ , but if it’ll get him to a fresh wardrobe then he’ll bear it.

They all climb onto the bike again, or the carriage thing, or whatever it is now and Celty forms the shell of a black van over all of them so that they’re less conspicuous. Izaya feels an awful twist in the pit of his stomach, telling him that everything is  _ not  _ going to be okay.

They don’t make it to Izaya’s apartment without trouble. Unfortunately the conjured van fails to have licence plates and they’re quickly roped into a police chase with none other than the infamous Kuzuhara Kinnosuke, occupation motorcycle cop. Celty practically dumps them outside Izaya’s apartment building, before she zooms off, back in motorcycle mode.

Shizuo and Izaya stand there for a good few seconds, before Shizuo turns to Izaya. “Fuck if I’m helping  _ you. _ ”

“Really Shizu-chan?” Izaya laughs, back in home territory. “I never knew you to be so  _ rude,”  _ he laughs again. “To think, you  _ did  _ help me earlier!”

_ “Izaya,”  _ Shizuo growls. “I only did that for  _ Celty.”  _ His fists are clenched. 

“You sure that’s my name?” Izaya smiles. “Last I checked I was  _ Kiyoko, _ ” he doesn’t know why he feels the need to poke at the wound but his words carry bite.

Shizuo flinches. He raises one fist. “Don’t you fucking talk you piece of shit,” his voice sounds more than violent. It sounds venomous and tired all at once. 

“So  _ rude, _ ” Izaya repeats. He takes a careful step forward and feels the sear of pain from his leg, but keeps walking towards the doors to the apartment building. Shizuo follows him from a distance.

“I thought you weren’t going to help me, Shizu-chan,” Izaya makes sure to roll the syllables so that the nickname sounds extra revolting.

“I’m  _ not _ ,” Shizuo spits back, but he doesn’t stop and turn away. He doesn’t leave. He walks behind Izaya all the way into the elevator, where he proceeds to linger in a corner.

“Are you  _ that  _ excited to see me undress?” Izaya asks, mind returning to that day on the school roof where he’d said close to the same thing.

“Shut up,” Shizuo rumbles. “I’m only doing this for Celty. She’s my friend.”

“And  _ I’m  _ not?” Izaya laughs.

“Fuck you.”

Izaya unlocks his door and walks into his apartment. Namie isn’t there. Shizuo pauses just outside the door.

“Ah  _ Kiyoko, _ ” Someone laughs, and Izaya’s head snaps to the raised second floor of his apartment, where Ueshima no doubtedly stands. “I see you brought  _ company. _ ” He sounds crazy, like his whole world has come crashing down and now he’s out for blood.

“What the fuck,” Shizuo steps inside, closing the door behind him and locking it. “It’s  _ you. _ ”

Ueshima laughs. He’s standing in the dark of the upper floor and his already cloudy features are obscured. “It’s  _ you,”  _ he echoes, stepping forward so that the light from the windows illuminates the black and red mask he is wearing under his hood. He’s holding a knife in one hand that glints strangely in the light, reflecting strange rainbows all over the wall. Izaya leans against the bookshelf behind him. He’s—Ueshima’s holding a can of gasoline tucked under his other arm, the red plastic very noticeable.

Shizuo takes a few steps towards the stairs. “What the  _ hell  _ is your deal?” He growls.

“What do you mean?” Ueshima’s knife clatters to the floor. He reaches behind himself with his free hand. “I think you should be more concerned with yourself.”

He draws a gun, black like the dark, and fires, once, twice, three times.


	15. ashes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> formattin is fucked up but i'm too tired to fix it rn. I'M WORKING ON TOO MANY FANFICTIONS AT ONCE.

Izaya’s chest is on fire. It’s not because he was shot, because he wasn’t. This is what he wants. He wants Shizuo to get killed, die, after everything he’s done. But on the other hand there’s nothing like a wall of meat to protect him from a predator. He finds himself burning, from the inside out like the flames that haven’t been started yet, as he watches Shizuo teeter forward. That must not be an ordinary gun. He finds himself taking the extra step, limping, to hold Shizuo up because this is another day and Shizuo is one of the only people that knows Izaya as Kiyoko and everything in between and

(it’s not fair it’s not fair it’s not fair)

It’s  _ wrong! _

“Why are you helping him?” Ueshima’s voice is sweet, gentle. “He’s only ever hurt you,”

Izaya wants to say something smart. But his mouth isn’t working right. Everything is  _ wrong.  _ Instead he says,

“He  _ knows  _ me,” It’s more of a statement than anything, but the words feel dry in his mouth.

“Kiyoko,” the man’s smile contorts into a grin. “You  _ whore. _ You’re only allowed to love  _ me. _ ”

Izaya feels it. The fire that has yet to start. The heat. He feels it surge through his cheeks and explode into his trembling hands. The implication is clear. The warmth, the terrible warmth, the dreams of gentle touches and hand holding—it all comes crashing down in a brilliance that is unrivaled. It’s. Not. True.

He hates him.

He  _ hates. Him. _

After everything he’s done, he  _ hates  _ him. Ueshima is right. Hewajima Shizuo has done nothing but hurt. From the first day they met to the day on the roof to every day onwards. So why is Izaya even caring? There’s too much stuff going on, with Ueshima and —

On the other hand he doesn’t want to be in debt to a  _ monster.  _

“I’m not  _ Kiyoko!”  _ She wails, not sure if she’s telling the truth anymore. Not sure of anything anymore. She’s desperately bracing Shizuo with her shoulder, pained leg starting to give way, the rest of her leaning against the wall.

“Does it  _ matter?”  _ Her ghost laughs, a cackling sound that resonates throughout the room. He throws the mostly empty canister of gasoline to the floor and Izaya watches as more fire juice trickles out.

Shizuo groans then, and he’s moving his arms slightly, pushing at Izaya and the wall and her leg  _ really  _ hurts but

(it does matter)

what.

Izaya is in over her head.

Shizuo raises his head to look at Ueshima, still on the second floor. He’s bleeding life, from his shoulder, hip and leg. It hurts like hell. That’s not normal, for him to get hurt like that. He was  _ shot.  _ He can feel Iza-oko supporting him, but she’s shaking under his weight. He’s mad. Terribly so. Mad at this  _ fucking freak  _ for shooting him and for putting him in this position to rely on the  _ flea.  _ Mad because he’s bleeding and it  _ hurts.  _ Mad because this man probably intended to kill him. Mad because 

{fuck fuck fuck maybe—}

what.

Ueshima holds up a box of matches, as Izaya finally collapses to the ground, taking Shizuo with her. There’s the sound of a match striking but she doesn’t notice though the pain that arches through her leg.

“Last chance, Kiyoko,” the masked man grins

(like a hyena)

and gestures outwards with one arm. “It’s now or  _ never _ . You can come back to me, be a  _ good  _ little girl and go quietly, or I burn you down and love your  _ corpse. _ ”

Izaya wants to cry. Wants to rub at the fear leaking at the corners of her eyes and get up and run but Shizuo is on top of her and her leg hurts. She wants to spit in Ueshima’s face but he is too far away. She wants to go down fighting if she goes down at all.

But deep inside Izaya is still  _ alive _ . She wants to keep things that way.

“Okay,” her voice is small, doesn’t carry, but she bets Ueshima is be able to read her in the way she sags, crumpled on the floor with Shizuo bleeding across her legs.

Ueshima smiles, reaches up and takes off his mask, revealing his surprisingly normal face. He’d be handsome, if he wasn’t so fucking creepy.

“Beautiful,” the man waves out the match. “You’re beautiful, know that Kiyoko-chan?” He laughs, picking his knife up from the floor and starting to descend the stairs. Izaya shakes Shizuo with one hand, a little desperately. The beast curls one hand over Izaya’s kneecap, lightly enough to let her know that he is actually  _ thinking  _ for once. 

And perhaps once is enough.

Ueshima stops next to Izaya. He’s holding her coat, must have grabbed it from where it was laying on Izaya’s desk.

“I understand,” he says lightly. “That you want forgiveness, for all those  _ terrible  _ things you’ve said—that you’ve  _ done. _ ”

Izaya sometimes can’t help it. “What are you  _ talking  _ about?” She sounds exhausted.

It’s at that moment that Shizuo locks a death grip around Ueshima’s ankle. The man jolts, but Shizuo is already crushing the bone. Ueshima screams, an animalistic sound that rattles around Izaya’s head like marbles in a tin can. He collapses to one knee, dropping the coat in the process. Shizuo uses the crushed ankle as a support, starting to pull himself upright. He’s bleeding too much, the floor around them is slick with red, but nonetheless his teeth are bared in anger and he looks pissed.

“Like  _ hell, _ ” he spits, and yanks the man across the room with an idle swing of his arm.

Ueshima slaps into the back of the couch, winded for a second. Izaya tries to squeeze out from under Shizuo, to try and escape. She manages to push the man off of him and slides backwards on blood.

A match strikes once more. Ueshima’s on his feet again. He smiles at her, even as he drops the match on the floor. It ignites in a way that is not normal. Not normally supposed to happen. It ignites in a spark of spilled gasoline and makes a hissing sound not unlike a snake, trailing towards the bookshelves and around the couch.

Everything catches fire too quickly. Far too quickly for there to be no preparation before hand. He must have spread gas all over the apartment. Izaya grabs the knife that fell when Ueshima was thrown across the room, shakes Shizuo again because 

(he knows her)

he  _ knows  _ her.

It’s terribly hot, and Izaya uses the wall as leverage to stand, legs and dress filthy with Shizuo’s blood. Shizuo kinda rolls over so he’s on his back and groans through his teeth. Ueshima hobbles and crawls towards the door, using the doorknob to pull himself up. He glances at Izaya, whose leg throbs with a fire all her own.

“I hope you both  _ burn,”  _ he hisses, leaning heavily on the door. He pulls the door open and slams it shut behind him as he leaves. 

It’s  _ terribly  _ hot, and Izaya wants to escape. She wants to run from the room and forget everything. 

But she can’t do that. Because when it boils down to it, Shizuo  _ knows.  _ Shizuo knows  _ her.  _ She hates him for that, but it’s the truth. 

She approaches Shizuo as the flames climb higher—there’s gotta be people noticing, she’s not the only one in the apartment building—reaching down to grab at one of his arms and  _ pull.  _ Shizuo is heavy and won’t be moved, but Izaya thought that maybe she could try.

Screw that. She limps to the door, grabbing her jacket on the way, sparing one glance for Shizuo, and leaving.

She doesn’t want to return.

_ Damn. _ Shizuo felt the flea let go of him.  _ Damn him.  _ Then he stops, because he’d referred to Izaya as a  _ him _ again.  _ Or is it Kiyoko?  _ He doesn’t have time. Of course the flea would’ve left him. What did he expect? There’s orange and red all around him, and the smoke detector is going mad... But it doesn’t piss him off. For a brief moment he wonders if emotions can get tired. If they can run out. Just like that. Like blood and energy and AIR. He coughs on the smoke, and the fire’s reached him so he tries to stand up using the wall for support. The door’s not too far but the bathroom’s closer, and he can’t even stand really.  _ Shizu-chan’s actually thinking for once!  _ Damnit, why can he still hear the flea? He wasn’t going to die. Like hell was Izaya going to win. Like hell. 

Izaya beats on the door across the hall. There’s no reason she should be doing this, but she is. She knocks and knocks, until a man opens the door, looking wary. Izaya knows she looks like shit, with her dress and stockings all bloody and smelling like smoke. The man looks surprised, but not as surprised as one probably should be.

“Are you--” His face twists into one of concern.

“No time,” Izaya snaps, “Call the fire department and come  _ help  _ me,” she coughs once, because maybe just maybe (she’s not panicking, she's  _ not)  _ her breathing picks up and her heart is racing but—

(he knows her)

She grabs the man’s wrist and pulls him towards the door.

“I don't —”

“There’s someone  _ in  _ there!” Izaya hisses. “You need to  _ help!”  _ She’s still holding the knife in her other hand

The man is pale, scared, but he follows Izaya into the burning apartment where--

Shizuo is not there?

Izaya stares at the spot on the floor for half a second, before her eyes flit to the bloody trail leading into the bathroom. She coughs. It is terribly  _ hot _ , unholy fire creeping up the walls like ivy. She limps to the bathroom, man behind her and there he is, bleeding all over the bathroom. The man blanches, gags, but Izaya tucks her new knife in her sash and pulls at Shizuo’s good arm. Her neighbor snaps into action, going to Shizuo’s other side to help lift him up. Together they limp towards the door. At one point Izaya slips on blood but barely recovers. They weave through the smoke until they reach the door and are outside.

There are other neighbors now, standing outside in the hallway. One rushes to help them, while another is frantically on the phone with police. The neighbors lay Shizuo on the floor, chest up. He's not moving. There's shouting and black smoke billows out Izaya’s apartment. Izaya coughs, once, twice, three times, leans against the wall, slides down till she's sitting on the floor. He knows her.

He knows (this is a nightmare this is a nightmare) her.

He knew her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

>  
> 
> comments and kudos and everything else is greatly appreciated. thanks for all of your support!


End file.
